It Happened One Night
by ShoresofAcadie
Summary: Now an up-and-coming attorney, Haruhi Fujioka reunites with the Host Club for an evening of laughs and heavy drinking…and an unexpected night of passion with one of her former co-hosts. Unfortunately, the consequences of this evening prove to be the beginning of a string of events that will change her life forever.


**Note: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or any of its characters. **

**The story below is segmented into chapters; however, I waited until it was completed to post it, so it will read as a single document.  
**

**Enjoy!  
**

Chapter 1: It Happened One Night

Haruhi Fujioka stepped out of the taxi, her eyes beaming with anticipation. Although she would never admit it, she had been looking forward to tonight's Host Club reunion event for weeks. This would be the first time in five years that they would all be together again. She wondered how each of them had changed in the interim.

As she passed one of the downtown shop windows, Haruhi caught a glimpse of her reflection. _She _had certainly changed. Five years ago, she had been a typical university student—in other words, grungy, bespectacled, and exhausted-looking. At the time, she had been in the middle of studying Pre-Law at Harvard University in the United States, and it hadn't taken very long for her to revert to her former sloppy manner of dress. If anything, it had helped her to fit in more, since she was surrounded by equally exhausted classmates, few of whom seemed inclined to put more than minimal effort into their grooming. Anyway, she was too focused on her studies to care much about her appearance. It wasn't that the subjects were terribly difficult, but she often found herself having to work extra hard to make up for the language barrier. Her English was passable, especially after the year spent abroad in high school, but college required total fluency. Her professors had no patience for grammatical errors in her papers, and Haruhi would be damned if she was going to accept mediocre grades when she knew she could do better. Through hard work, diligence, and more than a few sleepless nights, Haruhi had improved until she could speak and write as well as her native-speaking peers. She had finished university at the top of her class and transitioned to Harvard Law School with ease.

After completing her schooling, Haruhi had returned to Japan, where an offer from a prestigious law firm awaited her. She had initially planned to go straight into public defense work, but it had been hard to turn down the position when it was offered to her. It wasn't the generous salary that tempted her as much as the promise of real experience. The firm was well known throughout Japan, and it had built its sterling reputation by representing some of the country's most influential businesses. If she put in a few years at this firm, she could go wherever she wanted. In the end, it had been an easy choice.

As she gazed thoughtfully into the shop window, Haruhi couldn't help thinking that the woman staring back at her definitely looked the part of the young lawyer rising through the ranks of a powerful firm. Her short brown hair was slicked back and held with a studded barrette, her face was artfully made up with cosmetics, and she wore a black power suit with a form-hugging skirt and three-inch pumps. The effect was both intimidating and feminine. She straightened her shoulders and adjusted the lapels on her jacket, then smiled in satisfaction. She was no longer a scrawny little high school student who looked more like a pretty boy than a girl. She was a woman now, and a force to be reckoned with. Clicking her heels with confidence and purpose, she strode into the restaurant.

…Where she was immediately mauled by a young blond man who hurtled towards her and practically knocked her over. "Haru-chaaaaaaaan!" Honey cried with glee. "You're finally here!"

"Finally?" Haruhi asked in surprise. She checked her watch. Yup, she was right on time. "We were meeting at 8:00, right?"

"Yes, but everyone else was early. We're all here now!" Grinning, Honey turned to indicate the rest of the group. Haruhi followed his gaze, and her initial blush of embarrassment quickly transformed into a smile of pure joy. There they were, all of them, her beloved idiotic family. For a moment, she simply beheld them, reminded suddenly of the first day she had wandered into Music Room 3, looking for a quiet place to study. On that fateful day, she had opened the door, only be confronted by the picturesque poses of the infamous Ouran High School Host Club. Then, as now, there was a moment of suspended stillness, and then everything descended into chaos.

"HAARRRUUUHIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" Tamaki Suoh was the next to launch himself at her, with the Hitachiin twins eagerly at his heels. Tamaki scooped her up into a giant bear hug, and twirled her about like a doll. It was not exactly the dignified reception she had been hoping for. Apparently, a power suit and pumps hadn't made that much of an impact. Her carefully cultivated professional image might as well be just another costume to the Host Club King, and the only comment she was likely to get on her appearance was—

"YOU'RE SO CUTE! Oh my goodness, I'm so happy to see my little girl!" Yup, there it was. Haruhi inwardly winced but tried not to be too bothered. Tamaki would always be Tamaki. They may not have worked out very well as a couple, but he was a good friend, and in truth, she _was _happy to see him. She gave him a quick squeeze and a smile before turning her attention to the twins, who were already leering evilly at her.

"_What _are you wearing?" Kaoru was the first to pounce. "Really, Haruhi, must your clothes always be so drab and dreary?"

"Yeah, Haruhi," Hikaru chimed in. "If you're going to wear something that plain, you should at least accessorize a bit."

Haruhi gritted her teeth slightly. She had expected all of this, of course. The fawning from Tamaki, the insults to her wardrobe from the twins, the endless physical manhandling. It was like nothing had changed. But still. She was going to try to act like a grownup, even if the rest of them refused to. She shrugged out of the twin's double-sided embrace and walked towards the table, where Mori and Kyoya had risen to greet her.

"Hello, Haruhi. It's nice to see you again. How is your new job going?" Kyoya asked casually.

"How did you—?" She stopped when she saw Kyoya's trademark smirk. Of course he would know about her job, and probably most of the other major details of her life, too. After all this time, he was still the Shadow King. He made it his business to know everything about everyone. She smiled serenely. "It's going well, thanks, Kyoya. It's nice to see you, too. Hey, Mori."

"Hey." Mori was taciturn as ever, but he gave her a small smile as she touched his arm in greeting.

By now, the rest of the group had followed her over to the table, and they all immediately crowded in around her and began talking at once. Haruhi laughed aloud at the cacophony. The voices all stopped and they stared at her for a moment. "You idiots," she said, still laughing as she surveyed their puzzled faces. "I really missed you guys. Now get me a drink, and tell me what you've all been up to."

The rest of the evening passed by in a warm, happy blur as the club members conversed, giving updates on their lives and reminiscing about times gone by. The twins had followed their mother into fashion and were currently preparing to take over her empire. Honey—who had retained his baby-face looks but had finally hit his growth spurt and reached a respectable 168 cm—was working as the head researcher at a startup technology firm funded by the Haninozuka family. Mori, as always, remained by his side, watching over the business and legal interests of the company. Tamaki had returned to France, where he could expand the Suoh hospitality business while remaining by his mother's side. Haruhi learned that he had also recently met a lovely Parisian girl named Cécile, for whom he had apparently fallen head over heels. All signs indicated that the charming mademoiselle returned his sentiments; and from the anecdotes Tamaki happily related, it sounded like she was uncannily good at managing his eccentricities. Haruhi was surprised but secretly pleased to hear this. Tamaki _definitely _needed to be with someone who knew how handle him.

Kyoya had inherited a portion of the Ootori empire, and was actively managing several companies in the medical sector, including a rash of hospitals, pharmaceutical firms, and medical equipment suppliers. Haruhi had actually been following his rise closely in the papers, and knew somewhat more about his recent dealings than she let on (Kyoya wasn't the only one who could do information gathering, after all). However, most of what she knew was either public knowledge or social gossip. The word was that he was currently seeing the heiress to a grocery chain empire, and there had been whispers of a potential engagement. Kyoya didn't mention anything about it, though, so she decided not to pursue the issue.

As the evening wore on, she found herself becoming more and more happily intoxicated. She had only meant to have a glass of wine or two, but the twins kept ordering more rounds, and before she knew it, the world was beginning to spin at the edges. Eventually, the party began to wind down, and the guests started to disperse. After she offered to chip in for the bill (and was summarily turned down), Haruhi tottered dizzily after the rest of the Club members as they exited the restaurant to find their usual army of private limousines awaiting them.

"Do you need a ride home, Haruhi?" Honey asked sweetly.

"No, no, it's fine, guys, I'll just grab a taxi and—Whoops!" Haruhi stumbled slightly over a crack in the sidewalk and would have hit the ground face first had not Kyoya reached out and grabbed her arm at the last minute.

"You're not fine. You're drunk," he said matter-of-factly. "I will take you home."

"No, it's all right, Kyoya…" Haruhi stopped when she saw him narrow his eyes at her. Her well-honed "Shadow Lord Survival Instincts" suddenly kicked in and warned her that it would be best not to argue. That look meant that he did not want to be crossed. "All right," she relented with a sigh.

Kyoya nodded pulled her towards him, slipping his arm around her waist for support. Gingerly, she put an arm around his shoulders and let him lead her to the waiting limo. He helped her inside and then slid onto the seat next to her. "Do you still live at your old apartment?"

"No," she mumbled. "I have an apartment on the eastern side of the city now." She gave him the address, which he passed on to the driver, and the car began to move. Haruhi looked out her window as the city sped by. The blur of lights and colors made her dizzy, but it was somehow beautiful too. With a contented sigh, she laid her head against Kyoya's shoulder and nodded off. She completely failed to notice the surprised look on his face, followed by the arm that gently encircled her shoulders and held her close. She dozed peacefully against him for the remainder of the drive.

She finally woke when the car stopped in front of her apartment. "Oh," she said, lifting her head. "We're here already. That was quick." She moved to open the car door but missed the handle when the door was opened from the outside. Her hand instead found the chauffer's as he assisted her in stepping out of the car. She smiled at him gratefully and then turned around to say goodbye to Kyoya, only to find him climbing out of the car after her.

"Oh, Kyoya, I can make it from here. Don't worry about me." She flashed him what she hoped was a convincing smile.

"Nonsense," Kyoya said. "I can tell you're still somewhat wobbly. Let me help you inside." Putting his arm around her waist again and pulling her hand over his shoulder, he helped her up the steps and supported her as she fumbled in her purse for her keys, then pushed the door open and pulled her inside.

"Really, Kyoya, I'm fine now. Thank you for all your help," Haruhi began.

"Sit down."

Haruhi dropped obediently onto the couch, and waited while Kyoya went into her kitchen and got her a glass of water. "Here," he said, handing it to her as he sat down on the couch beside her. "Drink this. You don't want a hangover in the morning."

Haruhi obediently sipped from the glass. Drinking it helped clear her head somewhat, and after a moment, she looked over to find Kyoya staring at her, his concern still evident in his eyes. _Beautiful violet grey eyes at that_, she suddenly remarked as she gazed up at him, her vision still slightly hazy. Why hadn't she remembered that from their high school days? Probably because they were always hidden by those trademark glasses of his. Without thinking, Haruhi reached up with her free hand and pulled the glasses off Kyoya's face.

"Haruhi?" Kyoya's voice held a note of uncertainty.

"You have beautiful eyes, Kyoya," Haruhi murmured. "Did anyone ever tell you that?" She set the water down on the end table and reached up to touch Kyoya's face, not noticing him stiffen as she did so. His skin was soft and clean, and she enjoyed the feeling of it against her palm. Her fingers trailed along his face, tracing the line of his cheek and jaw and finally brushing over his lips. She snuck a peek at him to gauge his reaction to her unexpected touch, and found his eyes locked onto hers, the expression on his face difficult to read. _How mysterious, _Haruhi thought, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. _I wonder what he's thinking. _She let her hand drop from his face, and it landed on his chest. Through the smooth silk of his shirt, she could feel the quickened pulse of his heartbeat. She leaned down and rested her cheek against his chest. "Your heart is beating so fast."

She felt him lift his arms and smiled, waiting to feel the warm sensation of them wrapping around her. Instead, Kyoya gripped her shoulders and pushed her away to face him. "Haruhi," he said quietly, "I don't think we should continue this. I would hate for you to do something you would regret later. It would be better if you just finished drinking your water, and then I should go."

He moved to stand up, but Haruhi's arm suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist. He turned to look at her in surprise. To tell the truth, she was surprised at herself. She had a vague feeling that "Sober Haruhi" wouldn't approve of this situation. She didn't even really know why she was doing it; it almost felt like her body was acting on its own. At that moment, all she knew for certain was that she wanted to touch his skin again, to feel his warmth against her body. She ached for that sensation, that closeness. Above all, she didn't want him to go. She pulled on Kyoya's arm, and he hesitantly sat down on the couch again.

"Haruhi…" he began again, but this time she stopped him by leaning forward and placing her lips against his. For a moment, he was still, and then she felt his lips move against hers, kissing her back. His hands moved to grip her shoulders again, this time pulling her closer against him as he kissed her. His arms slid around her back and she sighed happily as she moved her hands to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt and pulling him down on top of her.

He broke away from her for a moment, staring down at her and breathing heavily. Haruhi moved to kiss him again, but he stopped her. "Haruhi," he said clearly, "are you sure? It's very important that you tell me this now. I do not want to be responsible for hurting you or taking advantage of your…somewhat inebriated state." He smiled briefly but his face quickly became serious again. "Is this really what you want?"

Haruhi thought for a moment. Somewhere inside her head, she could tell that Sober Haruhi was not pleased. Taking advantage of a friend like this just because she was drunk and lonely was about as far from proper behavior as you could get. She shouldn't be doing this. She knew that. It was just that…there was something in his eyes. Some strange expression deep in those lovely grey eyes that touched her in a way she couldn't explain. If this truly was wrong, then why did it feel so right to be here, lying in his arms? It was as though she was finally satisfying a longing that she had never even realized she had.

_No_, Sober Haruhi said. _That's just the alcohol talking. This isn't really what you want. Kyoya is just a friend, and you should know better than this. You want to end this now before it goes too far. _

"I want…" Haruhi began. Sober Haruhi waited. Kyoya waited. Haruhi took a breath. "I want…this. I want you, Kyoya."

Somewhere in her mind, Sober Haruhi's jaw dropped in astonishment. Kyoya simply nodded and leaned in to kiss her again. With a contented sigh, Haruhi felt herself melt in his arms and returned his kisses as they grew more passionate, more demanding. _In vino veritas_, she found herself thinking idly as his hands moved down and began to unbutton her blouse. _Huh. Who knew?_

Chapter 2: The Morning After

When Kyoya awoke the next morning, his first thought was that his room seemed brighter than usual. Had he forgotten to turn off the lamps the night before? Experimentally, he opened his eyes, only to squeeze them tightly shut again as he felt the sudden searing pain of natural sunlight filtering through the blinds. Quickly, he threw a pillow over his face, trying to focus as his sore eyes recovered from their temporary blindness. Clearly, one of the household staff members had forgotten to close his blinds the night before. He growled through the fabric. Someone _would _pay for that.

The pillow still over his face, he tried to assess the rest of his condition. Cautiously, he pressed his hand to his temple.

_Ow._

His head really hurt. He tried to think through the events of the night before. Yes, he'd definitely had too much to drink. Those cursed Hitachiin twins had seen to that. Plus, he'd been so damned concerned with making sure that Haruhi didn't wake up with a hangover that he'd completely forgotten it might be a problem for him as well.

_Haruhi…_

Kyoya sat bolt upright, shielding his eyes as the sunlight assaulted them for the second time, and surveyed the room. Yes, he was definitely in a bedroom, and no, it was most certainly not his. Slowly, he turned his head and stared down at the sleeping form next to him, her chest slowly rising and falling under the thin cover of the sheet, her narrow shoulders exposed to the morning chill. Kyoya felt himself shiver slightly as he looked at her, though whether it was from the cold he could not say. He looked around for a blanket to cover her with, and saw that most of them had been kicked to the floor during the night. Reaching down, he picked up a woolen coverlet and tucked it around her shoulders. There, much better.

She stirred slightly as he touched her, her brow creasing briefly, before her face resumed its serene sleeping expression. Kyoya released the breath he had unconsciously been holding, and allowed himself a moment to contemplate her. Even like this, at her most unguarded, her hair a mess and her smudged makeup from the night before still on her face, he thought she was possibly the most beautiful woman he had even seen. Beautiful, and until last night, the most inaccessible. The absolute last woman he would ever have dreamed of seducing. But then, he hadn't exactly been the one doing the seducing…

He shivered again as he replayed the events from the night before in his memory. The intense look in her huge brown eyes as she silently begged him not to leave. The feeling of her soft lips pressed against his, the warmth of her breath on his face, her tiny frame arching against his body as they made love. Most of all, he remembered the sound of her voice as she whispered—and later cried out—his name.

"Kyoya…Kyoya…I want you, Kyoya."

If only it were true.

Kyoya rolled out of the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping woman beside him, and slipped into his boxers and undershirt before walking towards the kitchen in search of some coffee. He had no doubt, of course, that she meant what she said, at least in the moment. However, he also knew that alcohol was a powerful motivator, and he found it difficult to believe that one night of heavy drinking could erase ten years of seeming indifference on her part. True, she had always been somewhat dense when it came to her own emotions—she was just as bad as Tamaki in that respect—but surely if she'd been interested in him, he would have noticed some sign of it. He prided himself on his powers of observation, and as far as he could tell, this had come out of nowhere. Then again, this wouldn't be the first time that Haruhi Fujioka had surprised him. After all, that was one of the many reasons that he had fallen so deeply in—

_No._ He wouldn't say it; he wouldn't even think it. Last night had been wonderful, but he wouldn't allow himself to hope for anything more. Too much grief lay in that direction. If Haruhi was looking for more than a one-night fling, let her be the one to broach the subject. In the meantime, he would maintain his usual neutral demeanor. It would be better for everyone that way.

By the time Haruhi woke, Kyoya was fully dressed and sitting in her living room, checking the news on her laptop. Wrapping the blanket around herself, she stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Kyoya?"

Kyoya looked up at her with a charming smile. "Ah, Haruhi, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"A bit hungover," Haruhi admitted sheepishly. She found herself blushing slightly as she looked at him. She couldn't help remembering how his body had looked when she had tugged away the last of his clothing the night before. He was tall and lean and muscular, nothing like the skinny boy she remembered from their high school days. His strong arms had scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom like she weighed nothing at all, before depositing her on the bed with the utmost gentleness. His soft hands and warm mouth had roamed across the entire expanse of her body, probing until they found all of her hidden pleasure centers. Flushing deeply, she turned her head away quickly, hoping Kyoya would not notice her expression.

He had, of course, but saw no need to embarrass her. Instead, he closed the laptop, stood, and extended his hand to her.

"Well then. How would you like to join me for some breakfast?"

They ended up having breakfast at a small café near her apartment. They chatted idly about current events, politics, and the recent happenings in their individual lives. From the way they spoke, they might have been any pair of old friends, catching up after a long time apart. However, anyone paying even the slightest attention to them could have guessed that they were lovers. The light touches of the hand, the not-so-secret smiles, the periodic pauses in the conversation, the way they seemed aware of no one but themselves. Just a normal couple enjoying each other's company over breakfast.

In truth, though, Kyoya knew, they weren't—and probably never would be—a normal couple. He felt that he was indulging in a temporary game of make-believe, and while he secretly longed for it to never end, he felt certain that it would, and soon. He glanced at his watch. Yes, it was time.

He motioned to the waiter for the check, and then stood, pulling several bills out of his wallet. Haruhi looked up at him in surprise.

"I apologize for running out like this, Haruhi, but I do have some business to attend to today. I trust you will be all right seeing yourself home."

Dumbly, Haruhi nodded, startled by his sudden change in tone. The mask had slipped back into place.

"Thank you for a lovely evening. It was very…enjoyable." For a moment, he paused, unsure of what to do next. Then, he swiftly bent down, kissed her on the cheek, and stood up straight again. With a final nod, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving a stunned Haruhi in his wake. He felt like an idiot leaving her that way, but what else could he do? It was better to leave things now, without making any promises. The dream was over. It was time to return to real life.

Haruhi was slightly hurt at Kyoya's abrupt departure, but it was easy enough rationalize. _I'm sure he has a lot of things he needs to take care of, and I monopolized quite a bit of his time as it was._ She grinned to herself, visualizing for the hundredth time a montage of images from the night before. It _had _been enjoyable. She'd experimented with sex in college, and had a handful of different partners, but she'd never experienced anything quite like this. It was more intense, somehow; more urgent, more sincere. She'd been a little surprised at how passionate a lover Kyoya could be. Given his normal personality, it seemed slightly out of character for him. After all, what could he gain by going out of his way to please her?

To that end, what could he gain by making love to her at all? There had been a time once, in high school, when he had pretended to threaten her in order to prove a point, to remind her of her own vulnerability when it came to the opposite sex. She had guessed his motives, and called him out on it immediately. _I know you won't do it, Kyoya-sempai, because there would be nothing for you to gain. _

Of course, that had been a long time ago, back when sex seemed like a much bigger deal than it did now. Still, if she was honest with herself, she had half-expected him to turn her down when she kissed him the night before. It would have made sense to do so. The fact that he hadn't was still something of a mystery to her. But then, so were her own actions. She had never been so brazen before, drunk or not. She felt certain that something other than the alcohol was at play here.

She just couldn't figure out what it was.

Chapter 3: Meeting Again

After that, life more or less returned to its normal state. Haruhi had plenty of things going on at work to keep her busy, and the long hours left her little time to think about much else. She and Kyoya had exchanged a few emails and text messages, suggesting that they get should together for lunch or dinner at some point, but nothing had really come of it. Truthfully, Haruhi was a little relieved. The more she thought about it, the more she began to think that what had happened between them was probably a mistake. There was an awkwardness to the messages that she didn't care for, and she sincerely hoped she had not permanently jeopardized their friendship through her impulsiveness. After a while, the messages ceased altogether, and that was that.

…Or it would have been, had not Fate, in the form of Haruhi's boss, Mr. Akito, decided to intervene. About a month after her encounter with Kyoya, Haruhi was working earnestly at her desk when she suddenly felt Mr. Akito looming over her. It wasn't his fault, really; he just had a tendency to loom over everyone in general. Haruhi looked up in surprise. "Sir?" she inquired.

"Miss Fujioka. We have a meeting with a potential new client this afternoon. Would you be available to sit in?"

"Of course, sir." Haruhi hesitated a moment, and then, her curiosity piqued, added, "Can I ask, sir, who the client is?"

Mr. Akito puffed himself up proudly, pausing for effect, and then confided in what was supposed to pass for a cool voice (although it actually came out sounding like that of an excited schoolboy), "It's a member of the _Ootori _family! They are interested in having us manage the legal affairs of several of their key businesses. This could be a huge asset to the firm's reputation!" His eyes glittered in anticipation. Haruhi could practically see the stars. She struggled to keep her voice neutral.

"That's wonderful to hear, sir. Of course I will be honored to take part in the meeting."

As Mr. Akito drifted away to loom over someone else, Haruhi put her head in her hands. She should have expected this. The firm's reputation was excellent; she shouldn't be surprised that the Ootori group would take notice. A part of her brain wondered if Kyoya had arranged this on purpose, but she brushed the thought aside. _You're overestimating your own importance, Haruhi. Don't get cocky._

But still, her heart leapt a little at the thought of seeing him again.

Haruhi arrived in the conference room ten minutes early, only to find that it was already crowded. Apparently, she wasn't the only attorney who had been invited to this meeting. The addition of the Ootori group to their list of clients would have a huge impact on the firm; everyone wanted to be a part of it. All of the senior partners were present, although oddly, Haruhi didn't see any of her other junior colleagues. She found a seat near the back of the room and waited for the meeting to begin.

At 2:00 p.m. sharp, Mr. Akito entered the room, ushering in their new client. Haruhi strained to see over the heads of her coworkers. Yes, it looked like Kyoya, but something seemed off. As the client turned to face the room, Haruhi blinked in surprise.

"Hello, everyone, and thank you all for coming. I would like to introduce you to Mr. Yoshio Ootori, the head of the Ootori family. He is here today to discuss several businesses in the Ootori conglomerate that are in need of new legal management, and he has graciously agreed to consider us for their representation. Mr. Ootori, if you please."

Yoshio Ootori took the floor and began speaking about the companies he oversaw and their specific legal needs. This was followed by lengthy presentations from the senior partners on the capabilities of the firm, and their proposed plans for managing the Ootori interests. Haruhi kept her focus on Yoshio. It had been some time since she had seen him in person. As she recalled, the last time they had met, she had given him a rather stern lecture on his parenting skills. She ducked her head a little in embarrassment. If she ended up working for him, she truly hoped he would not remember.

Unfortunately, after the meeting was over, Haruhi was prevented from making a quick exit when Mr. Akito stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Miss Fujioka, if you have a moment, Mr. Ootori would like to speak with you." It was not a request. Haruhi reluctantly allowed him to guide her over to where Yoshio stood, discussing business with another of the senior partners. After a moment, he turned to her and smiled cordially.

"Miss Fujioka," he said smoothly. "It's lovely to see you again."

"Sir," she returned, bowing formally.

"I was very pleased to hear that you were an employee at this firm. I'm sure you are excelling at your work."

Mr. Akito jumped in eagerly. "Indeed, she is one of our very best young attorneys."

"Ah," said Yoshio, nodding in approval. "Excellent."

Haruhi blushed slightly, keeping her eyes modestly downturned. What the hell was going on?

Yoshio then turned to Mr. Akito. "You will have our final decision by the end of next week. Thank you very much for your time." And with that, he strode out of the room.

Beside her, she heard Mr. Akito expel a pent-up breath. She turned to him. "Sir, may I ask a question?"

He eyed her sideways, then nodded for her to continue.

"Why was I invited to this meeting? I didn't see any of the other young attorneys present."

Mr. Akito seemed slightly affronted by her bluntness, but after considering for a moment, he answered, "Mr. Yoshio specifically requested it." It was clear from his tone that he didn't understand the why of it any more than she did, and that it vexed him. For Yoshio Ootori to single out a young attorney who had yet to establish her reputation in the field was unusual to say the least. He turned to face her, his raised eyebrow suggesting that he was expecting her to fill in the blanks.

"I…" Haruhi started, then stopped. What was she going to say, that she was friends (with benefits) with Yoshio Ootori's son? That just made it sound like she was exploiting her connection to the family, which wouldn't do at all. She wanted to make it as an attorney on her own merits, not through some perverted form of favoritism. She chose her words carefully. "I met him once previously. I guess he remembered me." She couldn't keep the slight note of rue out of her voice, but Mr. Akito seemed not to notice. She could see that he was waiting for her to continue. "That's it, really. I'm honestly not sure what his interest in me is." That was true enough, at least.

Mr. Akito looked like he was hoping that she would continue, then finally gave a small, frustrated sigh when she did not. "All right, Fujioka, if you say so. Yoshio Ootori is a man who has reasons for everything he does." _Not unlike his son, _Haruhi couldn't help but add mentally. "I guess we'll have to wait to see what those reasons are. You're dismissed."

"Sir," Haruhi bowed respectfully, and then made a hasty exit from the room. _So Kyoya's father has expressed an interest in me. Is Kyoya behind this? I wouldn't put it past him, but why?_

Haruhi put a hand to her forehead. She suddenly felt a little dizzy. So much had happened in a single day. She wasn't quite sure how to process it all. She made her way back to her desk and sat down with a sigh.

Her musings were interrupted by a sudden buzzing from her cell phone. She glanced at the Caller ID. _Kyoya Ootori._ Well, speak of the devil. She hit "Answer" and put the phone up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Haruhi." A slight pause. "It's Kyoya."

"Yes, Kyoya, I know. What's up?"

There was another, rather awkward pause. "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight? I had a few things I wanted to discuss with you."

"Um, sure. What time?"

"I'll send someone to pick you up at 7:30."

Haruhi smiled and rolled her eyes slightly. _Rich bastard_. "I can't convince you to let me take a taxi and meet you somewhere, can I?" she teased.

Another pause. "If you would prefer to do it that way, that is fine with me. Meet me at the Nobu Tokyo restaurant at 8:00. See you then." Without waiting for her response, he hung up.

Haruhi was stunned. That was very odd. Normally, the Host Club members just laughed or ignored her protests when she tried to assert her own "commoner preferences" regarding transportation, dining, clothing, etc. That Kyoya had taken her request seriously gave her pause. She found herself suddenly hoping that everything was alright. She glanced at the clock on her desk. _4:00 p.m. _If she left at 6:00, she would have just enough time to go home, shower, change, and head to the restaurant to meet Kyoya. She bent her head, and did her best to focus on her work. All her questions would be answered soon enough.

The restaurant was, of course, very fancy and (she felt) somewhat overpriced. Haruhi had expected that Kyoya would pick something like this, and had made a point of changing into an elegant black dress and taking the time to style her hair before heading out. She arrived at the restaurant right on time, and spotted Kyoya waiting for her out front. She stepped out of the taxi and waved to him. "Kyoya!"

He turned at the sound of her voice and walked over to her. "Good evening, Haruhi," he said formally as he extended his arm and escorted her into the restaurant.

The maitre d' must have recognized Kyoya, for he immediately hurried to greet them, and then ushered them to a private table at the back of the restaurant. Haruhi settled in and busied herself by opening the menu and reviewing her options. _Hmm. _From the look of things, this restaurant specialized in seafood dishes. Ordinarily, that would have delighted her, but for some reason, tonight they made her feel a little queasy. Nerves, maybe. She risked a glance at Kyoya. He hadn't even opened his menu. He seemed to be studying his folded hands intently. Haruhi closed her menu and set it down. Best to go for the direct approach.

"What is it, Kyoya? Is everything okay?"

As she said his name, his eyes clicked back into focus and he looked up at her, letting her words register. Finally, he heaved a small sigh, before saying quietly, "I just wanted you to know that it was not my intention to interfere in your life this way."

"Huh?" Haruhi's confusion was apparent on her face.

"You met my father today, correct?" It wasn't really a question, but Haruhi nodded anyway.

"He's going to accept your firm's offer."

Haruhi's face lit up. "But that's wonderful! I—"

"—with a condition."

Haruhi frowned. _What is he talking about?_

"He will request that you, personally, lead the team that will be managing his affairs."

Haruhi was dumbfounded. "But I'm…I'm just a junior associate. I'm not remotely qualified for that position."

"I'm well aware of that."

"Then…Kyoya, why me?"

Kyoya ran his hand somewhat nervously through his hair. "I'm not entirely sure. I suspect it's because I told him that you worked there."

Haruhi was suddenly very irritated. "And that's it? That's _all _you did? He found out I worked there and then suddenly decided, _on his own_, that he needed me to head up the team managing the Ootori companies?"

Kyoya's jaw tensed. "…Yes."

"Kyoya, I don't think I believe you."

"Honestly, Haruhi, I'm not sure I would either, if I were you, but in this case, it happens to be the truth. He has some ulterior motive that I'm not privy to, of that much I'm sure. But until I find out what's going on…I just…I thought you should know."

He looked like was going to add something else, but at that moment the waiter appeared to take their orders. Haruhi noticed that Kyoya's eyes briefly flashed with irritation before he hid his expression beneath the glare of his glasses; when he spoke, his voice had a cool, almost bored tone. "I'll have my usual. Haruhi?"

"Ah…" Haruhi realized she hadn't yet decided what she wanted. She opened the menu and skimmed the entrees again. Still nothing that looked appetizing.

"If you aren't sure what you'd like, mademoiselle, may I recommend the glazed tuna filet? It is quite excellent this evening."

"Sure," Haruhi said weakly. The waiter nodded briskly, then took their menus and scurried off toward the kitchen.

"Haruhi," Kyoya said suddenly, "are you all right? You look a little pale."

"Oh, I'm fine! Just fine," Haruhi said, waving her hands in her best "Don't Worry About Me" gesture and smiling a bit too broadly. When Kyoya frowned at her, she quickly averted her eyes and took a sip of water as she desperately tried to think of a way to change the subject.

"So…have you heard from any of the other Host Club members lately?"

Kyoya shot her another annoyed look before grudgingly answering her question. "Only a few messages here and there, no major news. The twins are in Paris at the moment, visiting Tamaki while they prepare to take the French fashion scene by storm." He regarded her intently over the top of his glasses.

"Ah," said Haruhi helpfully. _Is it me, or is he being deliberately uncommunicative? _ "What about Honey-sempai?"

"He sent out an email update about a week ago, but I saw that you were also copied, so I imagine I won't have to describe its contents at length."

_Okay, he's definitely not interested in discussing anything related to the Host Club. Fine. New topic._

"Oh…Yes, I did see that. Anyway. How's work been going for you lately?" _Come on, Kyoya, help me out a little here. _Haruhi was starting to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

Kyoya sighed, and finally let his eyes drop. "It's been…busy." He quietly began to describe the intricacies of his daily routine, the complexities of the businesses he managed, and of course, the tensions with his father, who still ran the majority of the Ootori empire. "After all this time, he's still testing me. He's all but said that I will be the heir, but he's still holding out. I think he's waiting for me to do something."

"Have you talked to him about it?" Haruhi asked.

Kyoya smiled ruefully. "My father and I don't really 'talk'. We seem to communicate mainly through our attempts to outmaneuver each other. It isn't much of a father-son relationship. But, at least…I think I've earned his respect. In our family, that is the most important thing."

"Even more than love?" Haruhi asked innocently. She couldn't imagine the kind of relationship he described. She loved her father more than anyone. As much as he annoyed her sometimes, she wouldn't trade their relationship for anything.

"Even…more than love," Kyoya repeated softly. "It is the way of the Ootoris." The sadness in his voice made Haruhi's heart ache. How lonely his childhood must have been. Instinctively, she reached across the table and placed her hand on his. Kyoya looked up at her in surprise. In response, she gave him a warm smile, and squeezed his fingers. It was all she could think to do.

For a long moment, they sat together like that, basking in a companionable silence, hands loosely clasped, saying with their fingers that which could not be expressed with words. Later, Haruhi would think back on this moment and reflect that it was the last time she felt truly at peace.

"Mr. Ootori, sir, your dinner is served."

Kyoya and Haruhi looked up, pulling their hands apart quickly as servers placed their food on the table. Kyoya nodded to them and lifted his fork to take a bite of his salmon steak. He stopped when he saw the look on Haruhi's face.

"Haruhi, what is it?"

Haruhi had never felt so nauseated in her life. She stared at the tuna filet, which under normal circumstances was one of her favorite foods, and felt a growing urge to vomit. The smell was overwhelming. She had to get away, and quickly.

"Excuse me…" she pushed herself up from the table and raced towards the ladies' room. She barely made it in the door before she was forced to grab the trashcan and empty the contents of her stomach into it. She was still leaning over the can when she saw the door opening out of the corner of her eye. _Great, an audience._ She felt too sick to look up, so she just silently willed the newcomer to get on with their own business and leave her alone.

She heard the sink on her other side turn on, then felt a cool compress being applied to the back of her neck.

"Really, Haruhi, if you weren't feeling well, you could have just told me."

"You shouldn't be in here, you know," Haruhi addressed her comment to the bottom of the trashcan.

"Duly noted. Do you feel well enough to stand?"

Haruhi waited for a final wave of nausea to pass before she nodded and felt Kyoya's hands supporting her and helping her to stand up. The sudden change in position made her lightheaded and she swayed in his arms.

"Easy now," he said gently. "Here." He guided her over to the sink, keeping his hands firmly on her upper arms as she washed her face and tried to get the taste of vomit out of her mouth. She paused to glance up at their reflections in the mirror. He looked uncharacteristically worried. Her cheeks were scarlet with embarrassment.

"I'm fine now, Kyoya," she finally said, standing up and shrugging out of his hands. "I'm really sorry about that. I'm not sure what came over me." Without daring to look at his face, she exited the ladies' room and walked back to the table. She could feel his presence a half step behind, ready to catch her if she staggered again. _How mortifying. Why do I seem to do nothing but fall over whenever he's around?_

When she reached the table, she saw that the offending tuna filet had been mercifully cleared away, along with Kyoya's untouched salmon steak. "Oh, Kyoya, I'm so sorry," she said. "You didn't even get a chance to eat your dinner."

"It's all right, I'll eat later. Here, sit down." He held out her chair for her and she gratefully dropped into the seat. He took his place across from her. "Now," he said, "do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Haruhi said truthfully. "I felt fine an hour ago. Just something about the smell of the tuna turned my stomach, I guess." She looked up at him pleadingly, willing him to believe her. She stopped short when she saw the odd expression on his face. "Kyoya, really, I'm—"

"Haruhi, when was your last menstrual cycle?"

Haruhi's jaw dropped in shock, and then her cheeks quickly flushed in anger and mortification. How dare he…how _dare_ he ask her such a question?

"What the hell kind of question is that?" she demanded. "Seriously, Kyoya, why on earth would you need to know when I had my last—oh." She suddenly blanched, finally comprehending the full import of his question. "Oh. Oh shit." She covered her mouth with her hand as Kyoya wheeled around to find the nearest waiter.

"Check, please."

Chapter 4: Consequences

An hour later, Haruhi found herself sitting in a hospital gown, waiting for the doctor to return with the results of her test. Kyoya hadn't said a word to her after they left the restaurant. He had simply ushered her into his car and told the driver to take them to one of the Ootori-run 24-hour medical clinics. Haruhi didn't have the nerve to protest. Instead, she sat quietly in the car with her legs pulled up on the seat and her arms wrapped around her knees, scooted as close to the window—and as far away from the fuming Ootori heir—as she possibly could.

She closed her eyes and tried to think. When _was _the last time she had had her period? It was hard to remember. But…they'd used condoms. Hadn't they? She couldn't really remember. _Still, the odds seem pretty slim, especially given that I've only had one sexual partner to speak of in the last year. _She tried not to dwell on the waves of fury that said sexual partner was currently exuding from the opposite side of the car.

_No, it really shouldn't be that. It makes no sense. Except… _Haruhi paused for a moment in her musings. _Except I don't usually vomit in the middle of dinner like that. And the math does add up._

She was not feeling particularly cheerful when they pulled up to the door of the clinic a few minutes later. Oh well. Best to just get it over with. She opened the door herself, without waiting for the chauffeur, and strode into the clinic. _Just keep moving, and you'll be fine. Don't look back. _She walked into the waiting room and was relieved to see that it looked relatively empty. They approached the desk, and she was about to address the receptionist when she heard Kyoya's voice growling behind her, "We want to see Takahashi-Sensei. _Now._" From the look on the receptionist's face before she scurried away, Haruhi guessed that Kyoya probably looked like the Devil Incarnate. She gripped the counter until her knuckles turned white and avoided the urge to turn around. She _really _didn't want to test her theory.

Predictably, Dr. Takahashi did not keep them waiting long. "Mr. Ootori," he greeted Kyoya cautiously (_Good lord, _thought Haruhi, _what did that receptionist tell him?_). "How can we help you?"

Haruhi had had enough. She stepped forward before Kyoya could respond. "I need to take a pregnancy test," she said, her voice low but clear. "That's something you can do here, correct?"

Dr. Takahashi looked from her to Kyoya and back again before nodding quickly. "Of course. Right this way." He turned and indicated that they should follow him down the hall. Haruhi took a step and then stopped abruptly. She heard Kyoya catch himself to avoid bumping into her.

"Kyoya," she said quietly, without turning around, "please wait here. I'll be back shortly." She closed her eyes and steeled her nerves for the inevitable argument, but none came.

"All right," she heard him say gruffly after a moment. She nodded and continued after the doctor.

After that, everything seemed to go by in a blur. No sooner had the nurse walked out with the blood sample than the doctor was returning with the results. Positive, of course. Four weeks along. Congratulations.

"Thank you," Haruhi said expressionlessly.

The doctor gave her instructions for taking care of herself during the remainder of the first trimester and directed her to schedule a follow-up appointment with the receptionist, then left her alone to change. As she exited the room, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror through an open bathroom door. She was still clad in the form-fitting black dress she had worn to dinner. _Well, I won't be wearing this for a while, I guess._ The thought was incredibly depressing.

Kyoya was anxiously waiting for her when she reached the waiting room. He paled when he saw her face. Oh well. At least he seemed less angry. "Kyoya," she said, her voice still soft, "please take me home. We can talk on the way." Without waiting for him to follow—but knowing that he would—she walked out the door and into the cold night.

Very little was actually said on the ride home. For her part, Haruhi was grateful for the silence. In the days and weeks to come, she knew, there would be much to say. Instructions, arguments, recriminations, plans for the future, futile attempts to salvage the dreams of her past. It all would come in time. For now, she just needed space to process everything, and if Kyoya's pensive expression was any indication, it looked like he did, too.

It was only when they pulled up in front of her apartment building that she finally turned to face him. "Kyoya," she said. "Listen. I'm really exhausted, and I need a little more time to think things through on my own. Could we maybe meet tomorrow to talk about this?"

"Of course." His tone was polite, almost formal, but in the dim light she could see the thinly repressed agony on his face. It wasn't hard; she was feeling the exact same way. "I will send the car for you at 6:00. No taxis this time, I'm afraid." He attempted a small smile at the lame excuse for a joke. It made her heart ache.

"Oh, Kyoya." Before she could think enough to regret her action, Haruhi shifted quickly to the other side of the car and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her face into his shoulder. She felt his arms automatically close around her, and for a moment, they just held each other.

"It will be all right," she turned her head and whispered. "I promise you it will." Kyoya simply squeezed her tighter in response and rubbed his hand soothingly across her back.

Haruhi took three deep breaths, and then on the third, she pulled out of his embrace and opened the car door in one fluid motion. She stepped out of the car and then looked back just long enough to say, "I'll see you tomorrow," before turning and racing up the steps to her apartment. It was only after she had closed and locked the door that she finally slid down onto the polished marble of the floor and released the tears that had been building up all evening. She would not let Kyoya see her cry, of course, but this empty room would do for now. _Empty, but not quite_, she corrected herself, tears flowing down her cheeks. _Just like me._

Chapter 5: The Proposal

Kyoya did not sleep that night. He was too busy making plans. He could tell when he left her that Haruhi was still in shock, but he at least had no intention of wasting any more time on that useless emotion. No, he needed to figure out what to do next. It was going to be difficult, of course—no denying that—but he had made the best of a bad situation before; he could do it again.

He ran through the key facts in his head again, laying them out in his mind like puzzle pieces. Once he had all of the pieces, he could fit them together into a workable solution.

Fact 1: Haruhi was pregnant, and unless he had greatly misjudged her, the baby was most likely his.

Fact 2: If the baby was indeed his, then it would be an Ootori child and would need to be acknowledged and raised as such.

Fact 3: Even as a member of the prestigious Ootori family, the life of an illegitimate child would be difficult. Tamaki was proof enough of that. The scandal could also cause substantial harm to the family's reputation.

Fact 4: If he brought shame to the Ootori family, it could potentially jeopardize his status as the heir to the Ootori financial empire. Everything he had worked so hard for might be lost if he didn't handle this situation correctly.

Fact 5: Shame and scandal _could_ be avoided if he were to marry Haruhi before anyone became aware of her condition.

Fact 6: Haruhi was unlikely to agree to this arrangement (damn her).

Fact 7: Haruhi was not unreasonable. She might be made to see the benefits of the proposal if he argued them properly.

Fact 8: Haruhi's father was very fond of Kyoya and could be a valuable ally if he knew that Kyoya was interested in marrying his daughter.

Fact 9: Kyoya was in fact very interested in marrying his daughter. More so than he would ever let on.

Fact 10: No matter what happened, all hell was probably going to break loose, starting tomorrow. Whatever action he took, he needed to act quickly to minimize the collateral damage.

Kyoya nodded to himself in satisfaction. Yes, the way forward was clear. If he knew Haruhi, he would probably have a difficult time in the days ahead; but he felt confident that he would ultimately attain his goal, given the proper time and leverage.

Yes, it was settled. Haruhi Fujioka would be his wife.

As the first light of dawn began to brighten the sky, Kyoya finally fell into a dreamless slumber.

The next morning, Haruhi was sorely tempted to call in sick to work. She was actually in the process of dialing her boss's number when she was suddenly reminded that the cluster of foreign cells currently residing somewhere in her uterus wasn't her only Ootori-related problem. If Yoshio really did end up hiring her firm, and forcing her subsequent promotion, she was going to have a lot to deal with at work. She knew she wasn't likely to make many friends by bypassing the normal promotion process; and it wouldn't do to give her detractors extra ammunition by calling in sick when she didn't need to.

Fifteen minutes later, as she was retching over the toilet, she began to have second thoughts about that.

_C'mon, Haruhi, pull it together. You can tough this out. _And anyway, dealing with a bunch of bitchy coworkers was still a happier prospect than sitting at home all day feeling sorry for herself and trying desperately to figure a way out of the impossible situation in front of her. If anything, the distraction would be good for her.

Grumbling, she pulled on a pair of dress slacks paired with a light blue button-down blouse. Simple, professional attire. The twins would be appalled. Which, frankly, was part of what she liked about it.

On the table, her cell phone buzzed. She walked over and saw that she had a text message waiting.

_For dinner tonight, are there any other food types you'd prefer to avoid? –K_

Haruhi grinned to herself as she tapped out her response.

_I think I will need to stay away from all fancy, rich-person foods and stick to simple commoner fare from now on. How about we go to a ramen stand for dinner? _

The reply was swift.

_Not a chance. I'll try to find a place with a simpler menu, though. –K_

Haruhi chuckled. Kyoya Ootori probably wouldn't be caught dead within 100 meters of a ramen stand. She couldn't resist adding:

_Fine. Meanie. :P_

He responded with:

_I try. __ See you at 6:00. –K_

As she dropped the phone back into her purse, Haruhi found herself feeling a little wistful. It was fun flirting and teasing like this. It was almost like they were a normal couple getting ready for a date, not two people who were about to have a serious discussion about their soon-to-be-hopelessly-mangled future. It would have been nice, she couldn't help thinking, if this actually was a normal date, and Kyoya was a normal man. Then maybe she'd be feeling butterflies in her stomach right now instead of this horrible leaden knot of anxiety.

The thought sent her scurrying toward the bathroom again. This was not shaping up to be a good day.

It only got worse as the day progressed. Although no official announcements had been made regarding Yoshio's decision to hire the firm, rumors about his unusual interest in Haruhi had already spread around the office like wildfire. Haruhi couldn't help catching the sidelong glances being thrown her way: some puzzled, others downright hostile. As a junior associate with no familial or other official ties to the Ootori family, she should be about as far beneath his notice as the goldfish swimming happily in its bowl on Mr. Akito's desk. Just a part of the background décor.

_If this is how it's going to be now, I am in for a rough ride once the announcement is actually made. I wonder if there's any way to get him to reconsider that stupid promotion. _If Yoshio was anything like his son, though, there probably wasn't. She was just another pawn in some game he was playing. _He probably just wants to see how well I dance when all of the strings are in place._

She stopped. _Strings…_Well, there was now yet another string binding her to the Ootori family, one that was both powerful and alarmingly literal. _How is Yoshio going to react when he finds out about the baby? THAT is really going to throw a wrench into things around here._

She put a hand to her temple, feeling the beginnings of what was probably going to be a wicked headache. As soon as her condition became generally known, her entire life was going to be thrown into chaos. For now, secrecy was her best strategy; but she knew she was only buying time while she struggled to figure out a long-term plan for dealing with the inevitable.

_Oh Mom, _she silently prayed, _what have I gotten myself into?_

When the car arrived at her apartment that evening, Haruhi was surprised to discover that Kyoya was already inside. "Oh," she said as the chauffeur opened the door, "I thought you'd be meeting me at the restaurant."

"Well, we aren't going to a restaurant, so this made more sense." Kyoya smiled at her as she slid onto the seat beside him.

"No? Then where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Twenty minutes later, as the car pulled up in front of its destination, Haruhi paused, certain there must be some kind of mistake.

"Kyoya…what are we doing here?"

"Just as I said. We're going to dinner."

He exited the car and held out his hand to help her out. As they mounted the steps, she couldn't help noticing that he maintained his firm grip on her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers and holding on tightly enough that she couldn't easily pull away. Her initial sense of misgiving increased to full-blown alarm as they stopped in front of the familiar door. Kyoya raised his free hand and had barely touched his knuckles to the wood before it swung wide open.

"Hellllooooooooo there, you two!" Ranka sang in delight, throwing his arms around both of them. "C'mon in!"

With his warmest Host Club smile affixed firmly on his face, Kyoya stepped inside the apartment, dragging Haruhi inside with him. "Ranka! It's lovely to see you again. Thank you _so_ much for inviting us to your home for dinner. Haruhi was just telling me how much she missed your cooking."

"I did not!" Haruhi hissed, nevertheless keeping her voice low enough that Ranka wouldn't overhear.

"Well, I was just overjoyed when you called, Kyoya dear. Haruhi almost _never _comes over to visit me anymore," Haruhi grimaced at her father's sidelong look and pout, "so it's just so wonderful to have an excuse to visit. And I had no idea the two of you were seeing each other. Haruhi, sweetie, why didn't you tell me?"

"Um…" Haruhi glanced down at her fingers, still locked in Kyoya's. So _that _was why he'd been so insistent on holding hands. Sneaky bastard.

As usual, Kyoya was ready with a smooth response. "Well, to tell you the truth, Ranka, it's been a fairly recent development. Actually, we wanted you to be the first to know."

"Ooohhh, I see," Ranka batted his eyes at Kyoya, clearly flattered. "Well, I think it's just _marvelous. _I always liked you best, you know!"

Haruhi felt her eye twitching. Of course Ranka liked Kyoya best. He'd never made a secret of that, any more than he'd bothered to conceal his loathing of Tamaki. And from the smug look on Kyoya's face, Haruhi guessed he knew it, too.

"Well, anyway, come on in and have a seat. Dinner's almost ready." With that, Ranka waltzed away into the kitchen. Haruhi turned the full weight of her glare onto Kyoya. He shrugged, seemingly unphased.

"Well, you _did _say you wanted 'simple commoner fare'. I thought some of your father's cooking might be a nice treat for you."

"Sure you did, senpai." Haruhi couldn't help feeling like she was back in high school again, being bounced around between the whims of her father and the various members of the Host Club. She'd had enough of _that _ten years ago. She snatched her hand out of Kyoya's. "I'm going to wash up," she said through gritted teeth as she turned and marched into the bathroom and slammed the door closed.

Inside, she closed her eyes and gripped the sink as she tried to steady her breathing. Truthfully, she wasn't all that upset at having to see her father. It had been a while since they'd had dinner together and she had missed him. Her outward anger was simply masking the panic that had been rising in her chest ever since they'd pulled up in front of her old apartment building. What was Kyoya planning to do? She definitely wasn't ready to tell her father—or anyone, for that matter—about the baby. She still had yet to formulate a coherent plan for dealing with it. Kyoya wouldn't just go over her head and spill the beans…would he?

She wanted to believe that he wouldn't. She knew he was capable of discretion. It was just that he was also capable of a lot of other things…and he had a reason for just about everything he did. If he wasn't planning to tell Ranka about the baby, then he must have another motive for bringing her here. But what?

By the time she entered the dining room, Haruhi had managed to calm herself down, but she still felt considerably nervous. She managed to catch Kyoya's eye for a moment before sitting down. "Please don't say anything," she mouthed, and was relieved to see him incline his head slightly in acknowledgement before turning his attention to Ranka, who was setting food down on the table.

"It smells delicious," he said.

"Yeah, Dad," Haruhi chimed in. "It really does. What are we having?"

"Stir-fried pork and veggies with rice. I was going to make fish, but Kyoya said you just had that last night, so this seemed like a good substitute. I know it's one of your favorites!" Ranka beamed.

"Thanks, Dad," Haruhi said, flashing her father a warm smile. "It's great to be eating your cooking again. So, how have you been?"

The next hour passed pleasantly enough as Haruhi and her father caught up and Kyoya amused them both with entertaining observations and anecdotes. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until dessert. "You know," Ranka said, as he laid the dish on the table, "this was a recipe that Haruhi's mother came up with. Haruhi actually makes it much better than I do. You'll have to ask her to make it for you herself sometime."

"I certainly will," Kyoya said. Haruhi blushed at the compliment.

"Growing up, Haruhi really did the majority of the cooking and cleaning," Ranka continued. "I did the best I could as a single father, you know, but in many ways, Haruhi was a more of a parent to me than I was to her. It just goes to show what a wonderful wife and mother she will make someday!" he ended brightly.

Haruhi choked on her water and started coughing. _Dammit, I should have known he was going to bring that up at some point. Why wasn't I prepared for it? _She was so busy trying to rid her lungs of water that she almost missed Kyoya's response.

"Yes…about that. I suppose this is as good a time as any to discuss why I suggested we have dinner together tonight. You see, Ranka, I would very much like to marry your daughter."

Haruhi's eyes widened and then quickly closed again as she tried to quell a renewed fit of coughing. Kyoya gave her a moment to recover, then returned his gaze to Ranka, who was staring at him in shock.

"Kyoya…really? You and Haruhi…?"

"Yes," Kyoya said, folding his fingers together and resting his chin on his hands. "I should mention that I haven't actually asked her to marry me yet," he briefly flicked his eyes in her direction, "but I wanted to declare my intentions to you."

Ranka's eyes widened slightly and then quickly began to fill with tears of joy. "Of course!" he cried out. "That's so wonderful! You have my complete blessing. Oh, I always knew that this day would come…"

"Dad." The deadly quiet in Haruhi's voice stopped her exuberant father in his tracks. "Could you please give me and Kyoya a moment in private?"

"Oh," Ranka's face fell slightly, and then he shrugged. "Of course. I'm sure the two of you want to discuss this alone. You just talk and I'll take care of the dishes." He smiled cheerfully and cleared the table before heading off the kitchen, murmuring to himself something that sounded suspiciously like "beautiful grandbabies".

Haruhi gave herself a full thirty seconds after he left the room before speaking. "Kyoya. Are you serious?"

"Of course I am. You know I wouldn't joke about this sort of thing."

Haruhi gave him a hard look. "So. This is your plan for dealing with..." She darted her eyes toward the kitchen, where Ranka was singing and splashing around in the dishwater, before returning her focus to Kyoya, who raised an eyebrow at her. She sighed angrily. "Were you even going to ask me what _I_ wanted, or were you just going to announce our impending nuptials to the rest of the guest list, too?" It was difficult to keep the hurt out of her voice.

"I'm asking you now," he said.

"That's not good enough, and you know it!" Haruhi stood up suddenly, throwing down her napkin.

Kyoya rose with her and quickly crossed around the table so that he was standing directly in front of her.

"What would you have me do?" he said in a low voice. "The child _is_ mine, correct?"

Haruhi had to strongly resist the urge to slap him. He simply took the look of fury on her face as an assent and continued, "If so, then it is an Ootori. I know bloodlines and lineage don't mean much in your world, Haruhi, but in mine they do. I can't ignore a child of mine, and I won't allow it to be raised as a bastard. If you and I marry now, before anyone suspects, I can acknowledge the child publicly as my legitimate heir without bringing any kind of shame or scandal on my family. It makes sense, you know it does."

Haruhi said nothing. She did know.

"I'm sorry I had to spring it on you like this. Truly, I am. But I thought that if you knew you had your father's blessing, you might be more willing to consider it."

Haruhi glared at him. "It was still a dirty trick, Kyoya."

"I'm well aware. I hope you will forgive me for it someday. Right now, though, that is not my main concern." He took a step closer and grasped her shoulders. "So. Will you marry me, Haruhi?"

Chapter 6: His Plan

"Will you marry me, Haruhi?"

Kyoya's eyes were intense and impatient, demanding an answer. Haruhi swallowed, trying desperately to buy time while she processed his question. She could feel her heart racing and her palms beginning to sweat. She knew she needed to think this through, but her mind couldn't progress any further than the word "marry".

"I…I…I can't…Kyoya…I can't…"

"Why not?" he shook her shoulders slightly. "Think, Haruhi. It makes sense; you and I could be a good pair. You know how much I respect your intelligence and ambition, and even though you're a…from a different social background than I am," (Haruhi had to give him a little credit for refraining from calling her a "commoner" to her face while he was in the middle of proposing to her), "your Ouran education pretty much guarantees you acceptance into my family's social circles. Your father has already given us his blessing. Plus, my family would be able to provide you—both of you—with sufficient financial means to pursue whatever it was you wanted to do in life."

For a moment, Haruhi almost pitied him. Did he really think any of these reasons would be enough to tempt her? A forced marriage of convenience, made palatable only through rationalizations and bribery?

She gave a mirthless chuckle. "Kyoya, do you even _want _to marry me? From the way you're talking, I'm not sure I'm the one you're trying to convince."

Kyoya averted his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, unconsiously betraying his nervousness. _He's deliberately avoiding something, _Haruhi found herself thinking. When he didn't say anything more, she decided to take the initiative.

"Look, I appreciate that you're trying to do the right thing here, but none of those reasons are good enough for me. I won't marry you to avoid scandal, and I won't marry you because my father likes you, and I won't marry you for your money. You should know me well enough by now to know I don't care about any of those things."

"Then _what_?" Kyoya finally snapped at her. "What do you want from me? What—" he stopped himself and squeezed his eyes shut, visibly fighting to regain control.

Haruhi reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, causing him to open his eyes and look at her. "Do you really not know?" she whispered.

She was surprised when Kyoya responded by dropping his hands from her shoulders and clenching them tightly into fists by his sides. His jaw tensed and his shoulders began to shake slightly. "Of course I do," he growled at her. "'Love', right? You want love? Well, fine." He abruptly grabbed her face in both his hands, and kissed her hard, forcing her mouth open with his tongue. Haruhi was too shocked to protest, too shocked to move. When he finally pulled away, breathing raggedly, he kept his face inches from hers, forcing her to look at him. "I do love you, Haruhi," he ground out through clenched teeth. "I've loved you since the day I met you. I loved you all the time that you were fawning over Tamaki. I loved you when you walked out of my life without a backward glance. I even loved you when you carelessly made love to me, never thinking for a moment about what could happen. You are the last woman my family would approve of; the last woman I should be with. You are a commoner, and a troublemaker, and a loudmouth, and in spite of everything I _can't stop thinking about you_!"

This time, Haruhi did slap him. When he finally turned back to look at her, his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock, she found her own eyes filling with tears.

"Liar," she whispered, her throat tight and dry.

"What?" Kyoya appeared genuinely confused.

"LIAR!" Haruhi screeched at him, her last nerve finally breaking. From the other room, a crash sounded. Haruhi and Kyoya both whirled around guiltily as Ranka stuck his head into the room.

"Sorry about that, my hand slipped. Is everything okay in here?"

Haruhi kept her head averted, trying to hide her tears. "Everything's fine, Dad. I'm sorry about yelling like that. We're fine."

Ranka hesitated a moment, eyes darting back and forth between Haruhi's hunched and shaking shoulders and Kyoya's downturned eyes and reddening cheek. He frowned. "Haruhi…"

"Dad. Just one more minute. Please." Haruhi fought to keep her voice steady.

Ranka bit his lip, and then nodded quietly. "All right. Come get me if you need me, kiddo." He disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Haruhi…" Kyoya began.

"Stop, Kyoya. Just stop. I'm sorry if I pushed the wrong button or whatever, but you don't need to lie to me, okay?" Haruhi couldn't stop a tear from coursing down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away with the heel of her hand. "It's unnecessary and besides, it's cruel."

"But…I…" Kyoya's voice shook slightly.

"Listen, I…I think you should go now. Please. I'll have Dad take me home."

Kyoya looked like he wanted to say something else, but then he just gave a curt nod and strode toward the door. As he placed his hand on the doorknob, he turned and looked at her coolly over his shoulder. "This isn't over, you know."

"Yes," Haruhi said wearily, "I know."

As the door closed behind him with a sharp _click_, Haruhi dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hands. After a moment, she felt Ranka's arms encircling her. She turned and buried her face in her father's chest, finally releasing her pent-up sobs. They didn't say anything for a long time.

During the ride home, Kyoya sat quietly with his chin resting on his hand as he reflected on the evening's events.

_Well, I think it's safe to say that didn't go very well._

For the most part, things had more or less been proceeding as expected. He had anticipated Ranka's delight, Haruhi's confusion and protestations, even his own awkwardness at attempting to explain why a marriage between them would make sense. He knew full well that Haruhi wouldn't buy any of his reasons, but he still needed to get them out of the way. The next step after that was supposed to be appealing to Haruhi's maternal and compassionate instincts, explaining the necessity of providing stable family environment to ensure the physical and emotional well-being of the child.

But things had taken a wrong turn at some point. Kyoya mentally berated himself for losing his temper in front of Haruhi. By allowing himself to give way to emotion instead of sticking to logic, he had somehow lost control over the conversation. It was Haruhi's ironic insinuation that he didn't understand how important love was that had finally pushed him over the edge. Seriously, how dense could that girl be?

Admittedly, he hadn't meant to confess his feelings for her the way that he did. He had always pictured the moment when he finally told her how much he cared for her as one that would be full of tenderness, not fury. He would gently take her in his arms and whisper his love into her ear, then pull back to see the amazement on her face transform into comprehension and, yes, acceptance. She would finally understand the depth of his feelings for her, and she would return them wholeheartedly. She would not slap him across the face and call him a liar. She would not burst into tears and berate him for being cruel.

_Who is really the cruel one here, Haruhi?_ Her own cruelty might be unintentional, but it was no less potent. The girl who saw through him better than anyone else still had never noticed the extent to which he saw _her. _It was maddening; but he had learned to cope, to overlook the jealousy and anguish that he felt every time she and Tamaki looked at each other, to ignore the tightness in his chest every time he spoke to her. He had learned to bury his feelings for her and keep them in a locked box that would never again be opened.

And then everything had changed when she had kissed him, and whispered how much she wanted him. In spite of his best efforts, hope had resurfaced. _Maybe…maybe this time I have a chance._

He wondered if that chance was now lost forever.

In any case, though, he reminded himself, there was more at stake now than the feelings of a lonely sixteen-year-old boy for the first girl who had ever treated him like a human being. It might be true that he had lost his chance at winning her love, but that didn't really change any of their other circumstances. The fact remained that the marriage between them must and would take place, both for the sake of their unborn child and for their own future prospects. Now it was just a matter of changing tactics. There had to be something he could use to break through her resistance. It was really just a matter of figuring out what kind of leverage would be most effective, and how far he would have go to obtain it.

He _would _win this game eventually, Kyoya decided. It was only a matter of time.

Chapter 7: Her Plan

It was only a matter of time. Haruhi knew this as surely as she knew her own name. And time was quickly running out.

In the days following that ill-fated dinner, she had replayed the entire conversation over in her head multiple times, trying to work out exactly what had happened. She shouldn't really have been surprised that he would propose marriage. It _was _the most logical course of action. From Kyoya's perspective, it probably didn't even seem like that big of a deal. Arranged marriages were relatively common among families with wealth and high social status. He had most likely spent his entire life preparing for the prospect of marrying someone who was not of his own choosing. Maybe the reasons for this marriage were different, but the basic concept was still the same.

Except…it wasn't for her. Commoners didn't marry for money or social standing. Her parents had married for love, and she had always imagined that she would be able to choose a partner the same way. She tried to envision Kyoya as a husband, but all she could see was his imperturbable outer layer, his deep well of reserve, and his Machiavellian instincts. She knew there was more to him than that, but she also knew that if he chose to make himself unreachable to someone, then unreachable he would be. There was no way he could actually want this marriage with her. Hell, he was probably blaming her right now for the predicament that they found themselves in, and hating her for ruining his chances at making a more favorable match.

He would try to be kind to her, of course, but could he really be loving? The Kyoya she knew was many things, but "loving" was not one of them. His protestations to the contrary had confused rather than convinced her. The most she could probably hope for from him if they were married was polite consideration. The thought of dealing with his stiff formality and false smiles on a daily basis terrified her. No, she would not live with a man like that. She couldn't.

The thing was…even if he didn't love her, he seemed determined to see this proposal through. As she reflected on all of the things he had said to her that night, what chilled her most were his final words to her before walking out of the apartment. _This isn't over, you know. _

He was right. There was no way it was over. In fact, Haruhi felt certain that it would probably never be over—at least, not until Kyoya got what he wanted. An Ootori did not give up until his goal was achieved; this was why they were so feared as businessmen. And his goal was to possess her. _No, not just me,_ Haruhi reminded herself. He wanted the baby, too.

Haruhi put her hand to her head as she tried to think through her options. She could just promise to let his family raise the baby when it was born, but she instinctively disliked that idea. It was _her_ baby too, dammit. She wasn't just going to hand it over to him. Giving the child up for adoption was also out of the question. Never mind the fact that she had no intention of surrendering her child to strangers; the truth was that it just wouldn't work. Kyoya _would _find out, and he would use all available resources to track the child down. It would be pointless to even try.

The gears in Haruhi's mind kept spinning. There was always…no, she didn't even want to think about that. But…she had to, if she was looking at all her options. She tried to sit with it a moment, picturing the consequences of that decision. It would allow her to continue with her life as if nothing had happened. Kyoya wouldn't be able to stop her if she did it quickly. She could be free of this whole mess of a situation. Maybe Kyoya would even thank her for it someday.

_No, the truth is, he would hate me for it. He'd probably never be able to forgive me. _The thought pained her more than had she expected. Then, abruptly, the image of Kyoya's bitter expression was replaced in her mind's eye with the face of a happy laughing child with dark brown hair and violet grey eyes. To deny this beautiful creature a chance at life…no. She couldn't do it. She would just have to think of something else.

Were there any options left to her? If she kept the baby, then it would be impossible to keep Kyoya at bay forever. He would wear her down eventually; he would find her weaknesses and exploit them until she agreed to his terms. He would never, ever stop.

_Unless…_

Haruhi's mind ground to a halt. There was a way. It was a terrifying thought, to be sure, but it was possible.

_He can't force me to marry him if he can't find me. _

It was a silly idea, though. Of course, Kyoya could find her eventually. He had the intelligence and the resources to do it.

_But…if I can stay a step ahead of him for just long enough__—__just until I have the baby, really__—__then maybe the forced marriage will be off the table. The damage will be done and the scandal will be unavoidable; it will be a moot point. We'll still have to figure out how to raise the baby, but there won't be the same pressure to rush into marriage if I really don't want to. It could work. It has to._

Haruhi raised her head, fresh determination in her eyes. Yes, it could work. She would make it work. She pulled out a piece of paper and began to jot down the outline of her plan, filling in the details as she went. By the time she finally set down her pen, the sun had started to rise. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted, but she also felt more peaceful than she had in a while. She had the basics of her plan put together. Now all that remained was to carry it out.

Later that morning, as Haruhi got to work, she passed by her desk and headed straight for Mr. Akito's office. His secretary was sitting outside the door, tapping on her computer.

"Excuse me, Suzano-san, is Mr. Akito in?" she asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure. I'll let him know you're here." She picked up the phone and dialed Mr. Akito's extension. "Sir? Miss Fujioka is here to see you."

There was a slight pause while the secretary listened for a response, and then Suzano nodded. "Okay, he says you can go in." Haruhi nodded, pushed open the door, and stepped into the office.

Mr. Akito was sitting at his desk, contemplating the skimming turns of his pet goldfish with unusual intensity. He looked up at Haruhi as she approached the desk. He seemed tired.

"Ah, Fujioka," he said. "Nice of you to drop by. I actually was going to call you in this morning anyway. There's something I need to discuss with you."

"Me too," Haruhi said. "I'd like to…"

"Fujioka," he interrupted her, his face suddenly very serious, "I need to know something. Please be honest with me. What exactly is your connection to the Ootori family?"

Haruhi blushed inadvertently, but remembered herself before starting to panic. Of course, he was referring to the impending deal with Kyoya's father. He wanted to know why she had been singled out by Yoshio. She tried to be as honest as she reasonably could without giving too much away.

"I went to high school with his youngest son. We became good friends and have stayed in touch over the years. However, I have only met Mr. Ootori once before he came to the office. Officially, I don't have any real connections to the family."

Mr. Akito ran a hand through his hair. _He's trying to figure out if I'm telling the truth or not. If I am, it doesn't leave him much to go on. Yoshio must have finally made his offer. I'm about to be promoted and no one knows why._

Mr. Akito finally heaved a resigned sigh. "Okay, Fujioka, here's the deal. Mr. Ootori has accepted our firm to represent him, but with a particular condition. He wants you—"

"Sir?" Haruhi couldn't stay silent any longer. "Before you continue, I have something I need to tell you." The urgency in her tone made Mr. Akito pause.

"Yes, Fujioka, what is it?"

Haruhi took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. "Due to a change in my personal circumstances, I would like to tender my resignation from the firm, effective immediately."

Mr. Akito's jaw dropped. "Huh?"

Haruhi continued briskly. "I apologize for the suddenness of this, but I just received word that my maternal grandmother has become very ill. She has no one else to take care of her, and I need to go to her as soon as I can. I don't know how long I will be gone, and I cannot ask you to hold my position indefinitely. Therefore, I would like to resign."

Mr. Akito stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, the rallied himself. "But…Fujioka, we need you. I was just going to tell you that the condition of Mr. Ootori's acceptance of our firm was that you would lead the team managing his accounts."

"He will understand if I have had to depart from the firm for personal reasons. It in no way should reflect on the company."

Mr. Akito narrowed his eyes. Haruhi avoided the impulse to squirm under the intensity of his stare. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Sir?" Haruhi tried to retain an innocent expression.

"It's just that the timing of this request and Mr. Ootori's decision are somewhat fortuitous. You know very well how unusual it would be to have a junior associate leading a team on an account as prominent as this one. It almost seems like you have an exit strategy prepared."

"I assure you, sir, timing notwithstanding, the two events are quite unconnected." This was more or less true.

Mr. Akito considered her for another moment, then sighed again. "All right, Fujioka, if you say so. I'm not sure how I'll explain this to Mr. Ootori…"

"Pardon my bluntness, sir, but you don't owe him an explanation," Haruhi interrupted. "My resignation is entirely my own decision and is purely for personal reasons. It is, quite simply, none of his business. The Ootoris are used to getting their own way in whatever they do, but I will not submit to the notion that they have a right to interfere in my life whenever they choose. I—"

Haruhi stopped at the expression on Mr. Akito's face. She knew immediately that she had said too much.

"I apologize, sir. That was overly forward of me." She lowered her gaze and waited for the reprimand.

"Haruhi..." Mr. Akito began. She raised her eyes in surprise. He had never addressed her by her first name before. He continued awkwardly, "Are…Are you all right? You seem troubled."

Haruhi was stunned. She had never in a million years expected this from Mr. Akito, who had always been so formal and businesslike in his interactions with her. She searched for a way to satisfy his question.

"I'm…not all right, really," she said finally. "The last week has been very stressful. And I…am genuinely angry that Mr. Ootori thinks he can manipulate my life and career however he wants. No one should have that kind of power over another person."

She risked a glance at Mr. Akito to gauge his reaction. Surprisingly, he was nodding. "I agree with you there, Fujioka. I am actually glad your timing is so good. I didn't want to go through with that promotion, for your sake as much as anything. You're an excellent attorney, and I had wanted to move you into a leadership position more gradually. Promoting you now would only cause you hardship."

He paused for a moment, and then stood up from his desk. "I accept your resignation, Miss Fujioka," he said formally. "Please have a letter typed up and on my desk within the hour." Haruhi nodded, and was about to turn to leave when he held out his hand to her. She tentatively took it.

"It has been a pleasure working with you, Fujioka," he said, shaking her hand. "If perchance your situation with your grandmother should change in the near future, please do give me a call. We are always looking for talented young attorneys, after all." Haruhi nodded and gave a quick bow before turning and leaving the office. _I misjudged him, _she thought as she walked out the door. _He is a kind man after all. It's nice to know that they still exist._

After exiting the office building with her small box of personal belongings, Haruhi proceeded to the bank, where she withdrew all of her money in the form of cash and traveler's cheques, and then closed her account. After that, she went to the post office, where she deposited three letters into the mail, including one addressed to her landlord that included a cash prepayment on her apartment rent for the next year. Then she went home to pack.

It was important, she knew, to travel as lightly as possible, so she only packed three days worth of clothes, her bathroom kit, a water bottle, and as many non-perishable food items as she could fit into her small duffel. The rest she would have to purchase along the way.

She debated taking her laptop, but in the end decided to leave it behind. If she needed to go online, she could always use an internet café. Better not to be bogged down with an electronic device that could leave a traceable signature.

After that, all that remained was to cancel her electric, cable, and phone subscriptions, throw out all the perishable food in her fridge, and take out the trash. She did a final sweep of the apartment to make sure everything was in order. As a finishing touch, she plugged her phone charger into the wall and left her cell phone on the kitchen counter. It would stay on until the electricity went out. Anyone who tried to trace her GPS signal over the next few weeks would only be able to get as far as here.

Satisfied, Haruhi turned off the lights and locked the door, then walked down the steps and out of the life she knew.

Chapter 8: Missing

It was evening when Haruhi's phone began to ring.

At 6:05, Kyoya called and left a voice message.

"Haruhi, it's Kyoya. Are you there? I just spoke to my father and he said your boss informed him that you had resigned today. What happened? Is everything all right? Please call me."

At 6:15, Kyoya called again. No message.

At 6:45, he left a text message.

_We need to talk. Please call me. –K _

At 8:00, Ranka called.

"Hi Haruhi, it's your Daddy! I just got the strangest message from Kyoya. He said you resigned from your job today. Whatever would you do that for? Anyway, sweetie, I just wanted to make sure everything was all right. Give me a call, okay? Love you, byyyyyyeee!"

At 9:20, Kyoya called again.

"Haruhi, I know your phone is on. Where are you? If I don't hear from you in the next 30 minutes, I'm sending someone over to your apartment to check on you."

At 9:50, he left a text message.

_Tachibana is on his way to see if you are at home. –K_

At 10:05, there was a series of knocks at the door.

"Miss Fujioka? Are you there? Miss Fujioka?"

Tachibana tried to look into the windows and saw that the rooms were dark. He called Kyoya.

"Mr. Kyoya, sir, I'm at Miss Fujioka's apartment. No one appears to be home."

Kyoya cursed under his breath. "Fine. Thank you for checking, Tachibana. You can come back."

Tachibana hung up and turned to go when he heard the faint sound of Haruhi's cell phone ringing from inside the apartment. He peered in the window again, but saw nothing. The phone stopped ringing.

He quickly called Kyoya back. "Sir, did you just try Miss Fujioka's phone again?"

"Of course I did," Kyoya said crossly. "Why?"

"I heard it ringing inside the apartment."

"But you said no one was home."

"That's correct, sir."

"But that makes no sense. Haruhi always has her phone." Kyoya thought for a moment. "Tachibana, can you find a way to check inside her apartment? I need to make sure she isn't injured or unconscious."

"Of course, sir. I will call you back momentarily."

Tachibana experimented with the windows he could reach from the balcony. Both were locked, and after making a cursory sweep around the outside of the building, Tachibana determined that no other entrances to the apartment were easily accessible. However, orders were orders. He returned to the window by the door, wrapped his handkerchief around his fist, and punched a hole through the glass. He winced slightly as he reached in past the broken shards and released the catch.

"Miss Fujioka? If you're there, I'm coming in."

Tachibana lifted the window open and climbed through. It didn't take him long to do a complete search of the apartment. Haruhi was definitely not there. He returned to the kitchen to rinse the cuts on his hand and noticed the cell phone lying on the counter. He scrolled through the call log. Missed calls all evening. He pulled his own phone out of his pocket and dialed Kyoya again. Kyoya answered immediately.

"Is she there?"

"She is not, sir. Her phone is here, though."

"What does the apartment look like? Does it seem like anyone else has been there?"

"I don't believe so sir. Other than the small mess surrounding my point of entry, everything is very tidy."

"Anything look odd?"

"The fridge is empty, sir."

"Huh…okay, Tachibana, return to the residence. Take her phone with you, and leave a note explaining why you were there in case she comes back."

"Sir."

Kyoya hung up. This was definitely weird. He dialed Ranka's number.

"Helloooooo?"

"Ranka, it's Kyoya."

"Oh, hello, Kyoya. Any word from Haruhi about what happened today at her job?"

"No…actually there's been no word at all. I was hoping perhaps she had contacted you."

Ranka noticed the slight edge in Kyoya's voice and sobered immediately. "No, I haven't heard anything from her." After a slight pause, he asked, "Did something happen?"

"I sent someone to check her apartment, because she hasn't been answering my calls all evening. She was not there, but her phone was."

"So what does that mean?"

"I don't know yet. She could be staying with a friend. Or something else could have happened."

Trying very hard not to think about what that "something" could be, Ranka drew in a small breath, then let it out slowly, focusing his thoughts. "It's not like her to be without her phone," he finally said. "She must know we'd be trying to reach her after what happened today. Even if she didn't have her phone, shouldn't she have tried to make contact by now?"

"You'd know better than I would," Kyoya said, with a slightly bitter tone. "We haven't spoken since dinner the other night, so her ignoring me doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"Kyoya…" Ranka wanted very badly to ask about what had happened between the two of them during that dinner. Haruhi had told almost nothing to him about it. All he really knew was that they had fought and that Haruhi had been deeply upset by it. She had cried herself out in his arms after Kyoya left, and when he asked her what happened, she just sniffled and said, "Don't blame Kyoya, Dad. He was just trying to do the right thing." She had refused to elaborate further and then proceeded to burst into tears again. The whole incident had left Ranka deeply perplexed and concerned.

Still, as much as he wanted to ask, his growing feelings of panic over Haruhi's current well-being took precedence. "She should have contacted me by now," he decided at last. "I'm going to call the police."

"All right," Kyoya agreed, somewhat surprised by how calm Ranka's voice sounded. _He's taking this remarkably well_. "I will start going through her list of friends to see if she has made contact with anyone."

"Okay…wait, how do you have a list of her friends?" Ranka asked.

"I have her cell phone. Or, at least, I will once Tachibana brings it to me."

"Huh?"

"I told you, I had someone check her apartment," Kyoya said coolly.

"Yeah, but I didn't think that meant breaking and entering!" Ranka shouted loudly into the receiver, his frayed nerves finally snapping.

Kyoya winced slightly as the older man's shrill voice pierced his eardrum. He tried to keep his voice level. "I'm sorry, Ranka, but I needed to make sure she wasn't hurt. I'll have the damage repaired."

Ranka sighed and tried to collect himself. "I see. And she wasn't? Hurt, I mean."

"She wasn't there at all, so no, she wasn't." There was an awkward pause then, which Kyoya finally broke. "So. You'll call the police then?"

"Yes. Please call me if you find out anything on your end."

"Of course." Kyoya hung up and pondered his next move. Tachibana was on his way with Haruhi's phone and contact list now, but off the top of his head, Kyoya could already think of five people who would definitely be on it. Might as well get them out of the way first. He sighed heavily and began to dial Tamaki Suoh's number.

Chapter 9: Confessions and Confrontations

Twelve hours later, the members of the Host Club were all gathered at the Ootori residence. Tamaki had, as expected, taken the news of Haruhi's disappearance with a lot of noise and melodrama, but he was quick to spring into action. Kyoya had to give him some credit for that. In addition, not only had Tamaki taken it upon himself to contact all of the other Host Club members, he had also placed the considerable resources of the Suoh family at Kyoya's disposal.

"Anything you need, it's yours. Don't worry, Kyoya, we will find her!"

"Thanks, Tamaki, I—"

"DON'T WORRY, HARUHI, DADDY'S COMING TO SAVE YOOOOUUUU!"

"—appreciate it. Ow."

"Heh, sorry. Anyway, I'll round up the troops ASAP and we'll meet up at your house. Sound good?"

"Mmm."

"Okay, great. See you then!" And just like that, the Host Club was back together.

Once they had all arrived, Kyoya was content to turn over management of the operation to Tamaki and slip back into his old role of Shadow King. Actually, though he would never admit it, he was extremely relieved to have Tamaki there. For one thing, the Prince's wacky antics kept everyone amused and prevented the overall mood in the room from getting too somber. For another, Tamaki had a tendency to draw the focus of everyone around him, which in turn meant that no one was really paying much attention to Kyoya, whose typically stoic demeanor was in serious danger of crumbling.

In actuality, he was terrified. Calls to everyone on Haruhi's contact list had yielded nothing, and the police were now treating this as a Missing Person case. The list of things that could have happened to her was frighteningly long, and it included things like "Kidnapping", "Accident", and "Murder". Kyoya suppressed an involuntary shudder. If anything happened to her, he honestly didn't know what he would do.

"Kyo-chan, are you okay?" Kyoya started. He hadn't noticed Honey stealing quietly up to his elbow. Although he was no longer child sized, the young Haninozuka heir had retained his uncanny ability to sneak up on people when they weren't looking.

"Ah, Honey-senpai. No, I'm fine," Kyoya flashed what he hoped was a convincing smile. Honey looked unimpressed. "Really," Kyoya tried again. "I'm just concerned about Haruhi. We all are."

Honey studied him for a moment, and gave him a small, sad smile. "Yes, Kyo-chan, I understand." Then his face lit up into his usual bright demeanor. "But don't worry! I'm sure we'll find her." He patted Kyoya's arm briefly and then ran off, presumably to find Mori. Kyoya grimaced. _That transparent, am I? I'll need to work on that._

Just then, Tachibana poked his head into the room. "Sir? Today's mail for you."

He handed Kyoya a small stack of envelopes on a tray. Kyoya accepted them gratefully. Anything to take his mind off of Haruhi.

He was skimming through the letters, most of which were business-related, when he came to a small envelope with a hand-written inscription and no return address. With a sudden sense of foreboding, he left the room and walked into his personal study, closing the door behind him. As soon as he was sure he was alone, he ripped open the envelope, not even bothering to find a letter opener, only to discover two additional envelopes within. The first was labeled "To the Host Club",and the second read simply "Kyoya".

He quickly tore open the second envelope and scanned its contents. Then he read them again. And again. He was still trying to wrap his brain around them when heard the door open behind him. He spun around guiltily, crumpling the note in his hand and holding it behind his back. He found himself face to face with Tamaki.

"Hey, Kyoya, we were just wondering where you were and…" Tamaki halted abruptly at the sight of his friend's face. "Kyoya? What's wrong?"

"Nothing…Nothing, I…" he stopped as Tamaki closed the distance between them and put his hands on Kyoya's shoulders.

"Kyoya," he said, his face full of concern. "Tell me."

At that moment, Kyoya didn't have it in him to jerk away and deny vehemently that anything was wrong. Instead, he closed his eyes and started shaking, unable to control himself anymore. Without another word, Tamaki took his arm and pulled him over to the couch, and then sat down beside him. For another few moments, he waited as Kyoya fought to find his voice and finally managed, "H-Haruhi…she's safe. She's okay."

"She is? Well, that's wonderful. That's amazing! Wait, hang on, how do you know?"

Involuntarily, Kyoya glanced down at the paper that was still clenched in his hand. Tamaki's eyes followed his gaze. "Is that a note? Let me see." Kyoya hesitated, then handed over the crumpled paper. No point in hiding it now. Tamaki smoothed out the wrinkles and read it aloud.

_Kyoya,_

_Even now, I'm not sure how to write this. You've probably figured out by now that I am missing. First of all, I want to let you know that I am safe. No international kidnapping attempts or any other crazy idea that Tamaki-senpai would likely come up with. _

_The truth is that I've left Japan without telling anyone why or where I'm going. Please understand that I only did this because I felt like I had no other choice. I'm sorry, truly I am, but I just can't do it, Kyoya. I can't. I wish I could be more like you, and be stronger in my resolve, but I'm not. And so, like a coward, I ran away. I couldn't figure out how to make you understand any other way._

_I'm so sorry about everything. I really do hope you'll forgive me someday._

_Haruhi_

_P.S. Please don't tell the Host Club. I've included a separate letter for them._

"Kyoya, what does this mean?" Tamaki asked upon finishing the letter.

"It means I'm an idiot," Kyoya muttered, putting his head in his hands and closing his eyes again.

"Yeah, but why? What is she talking about?" Tamaki prompted, scanning the letter again. When Kyoya said nothing, he put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Kyoya, you know you can trust me, right? Stop trying to bear everything on your own."

Kyoya sighed heavily. Then, without looking up, he said quietly, "I asked her to marry me."

"You WHAT?" Tamaki shouted loudly. Kyoya's shot him a death glare. Quickly, Tamaki his voice to a loud whisper. "You _what_? Why? Wait, are the two of you together?"

"No."

"Then why…?" Tamaki thought for a moment, then grabbed Kyoya's hand, forcing his friend to look up at his face. "Wait. She's not…" He stopped. The sad, tired look in Kyoya's eyes was all the confirmation he needed. "And you're…?" Another look, and a nod. "Good lord, Kyoya. When did this happen?"

"About a month ago. After the reunion dinner." He paused, then added wryly, "She started it."

Tamaki exhaled slowly, studying his friend's hunched shoulders and uncharacteristically vulnerable expression. Then, "Are you in love with her?"

Kyoya chuckled bitterly. "Of course I am. We all were, remember?"

"Yes, but…"

"I am." Kyoya finally turned towards him and lifted his head so that he and Tamaki were on the same level. "I really am. I have been for a long time. I don't think she feels the same way, though."

Tamaki was speechless. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that his friend had such strong feelings for Haruhi. Hikaru, sure, and maybe Kaoru, but not Kyoya. Not the infamously cool Shadow King. He groped around for something to say, finally coming up with, "She said there was another note?"

"Yeah," Kyoya inclined his head toward the desk, where a second, unopened envelope lay. Tamaki walked over to the desk and picked it up.

"To the Host Club." He carefully tore it open and read the contents.

_Hey guys,_

_So, if I'm guessing correctly, you guys are probably all gathered at somebody's house right now, trying to figure out whether I've been kidnapped and sold into slavery by Wandering Afghan Lawyer Thieves. Am I close?_

_Anyway, I'm so sorry to have made you all worry. I was called out of the country suddenly on business and barely had time to say goodbye to anyone! It's a classified project, which is why I couldn't take my phone with me or let anyone know where I'm going, but I promise I'm all right. I'll be in touch as soon as I get back to Japan._

_Lots of love to all of you,_

_Haruhi_

"Well, we always knew she was a terrible liar," Tamaki said upon finishing the letter.

Kyoya chuckled quietly. "Indeed, we did," he said.

Tamaki crossed back to Kyoya and knelt down in front of him. "Listen, Kyoya, I won't pretend to understand exactly what's going on between the two of you, but I swear that whatever happens, you have my support. I'll help you bring her home."

"Thank you, Tamaki," Kyoya was touched by his friend's sincerity. "That really means a great deal to me."

"Any time, my friend," Tamaki grinned. "Of course, you know that if you hurt my little girl, I will have to kill you, right?"

"I can live with that."

"Good. Now let's go update the rest of the Club."

Of course, there was some disagreement over just how _much_ to tell the Host Club. Kyoya did not particularly want to divulge Haruhi's pregnancy or his own involvement with her to the rest of the members. "At least, not just yet," Kyoya said. "If we find her quickly, it shouldn't matter, and it would be better for her to tell them herself."

"And if we don't find her right away?" Tamaki prodded.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Kyoya answered. His voice sounded unconvincing even to himself.

"Okay, and in the meantime, what will we tell Haruhi's father?"

_Dammit, I forgot about him. _Kyoya thought for a moment. "I'm sure he's not going to buy the 'business trip' thing, since he already knows she resigned from her job." He sighed. "We might just have to tell him the truth."

As if on cue, Kyoya's cell phone started ringing. He glanced down at the caller ID. _Speak of the devil. _

"Kyoya, listen! I just received a letter from Haruhi. She says she's okay, but something about it doesn't sound quite right. I'm worried she might have forced to write it under duress or something! What if she was kidnapped, or blackmailed, or…"

"Don't worry, Ranka," Kyoya said quickly. "I got a letter from her as well, and I'm fairly confident that she wrote it herself, without undue external influence. Did she tell you where she was going?"

"Not really. She just said that she was taking a trip outside of the country for a while, and that I 'shouldn't worry'." Abruptly, he burst into tears. "BUT OF COURSE I'M GOING TO WORRY! I'm her father, for Christ's sake, that's my job! I know she's supposed to be an adult and independent and all, but dammit, I want to know what's going on!"

Kyoya kept his voice level. "I think I have a pretty good idea at this point, Ranka, but I'd prefer to tell you about it in person. The Host Club is currently using my house as a base of operations for the search. I can send a car to bring you here. Are you at home?"

"Yes," Ranka sniffled.

"All right, then. I'll see you shortly." Kyoya hung up.

"So, the truth then?" Tamaki asked.

Kyoya shot him another death glare. "Yes," he finally said, heaving a sigh. "I'd hoped to keep this whole matter a secret for a while longer, but Haruhi's safety is the first priority. Withholding information at this juncture would be unwise." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay. Let's get this over with." Steeling himself, he strode out of the study, leaving Tamaki to trail behind in his wake.

When Ranka arrived, Kyoya gathered them all together in his spacious living room. "Okay, here's the deal," he said. "Haruhi has made contact via letter. From this, we know that she left voluntarily, although her current whereabouts are still unknown."

"Did she say why she was leaving?" Kaoru asked.

"She did, but it sounds like she said something different to every person she told. I believe the real reason she left is—" He stopped and swallowed. _How do I say this? _

"Well, what is it?" Hikaru demanded impatiently.

In spite of himself, Kyoya couldn't go on. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides. _Come on, dammit. They're all waiting!_

He felt Tamaki's hand on his arm. "Kyoya," he said in a low voice, "do you want me to tell them?"

Kyoya's jaw tensed. "No," he said softly. "I have to." He raised his voice. "The reason she's gone…is because of me."

"What do you mean, Kyo-chan?" Honey asked.

Kyoya took a deep breath, then turned to Ranka. "You remember that night we had dinner at your house?" Ranka nodded slowly. "I asked her to marry me; she refused." He ignored the gaping mouths of the other Host Club members and pushed on. "Under the circumstances, I wasn't willing to accept her refusal, and so I kept pushing the issue. So, basically, I have reason to believe she left…to get away from me."

"Kyoya," Ranka spoke for the first time. His voice was soft and dangerous. "What exactly are these 'circumstances' you were referring to?"

Kyoya forced himself to look the older man straight in the eye as he spoke. "Haruhi is pregnant."

Ranka didn't even flinch. _He must have already suspected something, _Kyoya thought_. _"And who is the father?" Ranka ground out through clenched teeth.

"I am."

Ranka took two steps forward and punched Kyoya in the jaw.

Truthfully, Kyoya had been expecting a reaction of this sort; however, he was unprepared for the sheer amount of force behind Ranka's fist, and he staggered backwards. The blood slowly trickled down his chin as he looked up at Ranka, who was breathing heavily. _I had no idea a drag queen could hit so hard, _Kyoya thought_. I can believe it of a father, though._

"I'm sorry, Ranka," he said quietly.

"Don't call me that!" Ranka snapped, and stalked out of the room.

Kyoya dropped his eyes to the floor, allowing the glare of his glasses to hide his expression. Well, that had been surprisingly tough. Kyoya had handled himself easily in tense situations before, but they had always been business-related. Pit him against one angry father, and he felt like he could barely hold himself together. _What a weakling I am, _he thought bitterly.

For a long moment, the room was entirely still. Then, Kyoya felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and was surprised to find himself face-to-face with Mori.

"Kyoya," Mori said solemnly. "Congratulations."

Kyoya was stunned. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. _What is he talking about?_

"Yeah, Kyo-chan," Honey came up to stand beside Mori. "Congratulations. I know it wasn't what something you were expecting, but you and Haru-chan are going to have a baby together. That's amazing."

"Yeah," Kaoru chimed in. "I'm sure everything will work out. Ranka will come around."

"We're all with you," Tamaki said warmly, putting a friendly hand on Kyoya's other shoulder.

Only Hikaru hung back from the group, arms folded and expression unreadable. Kaoru noticed his reluctance, and turned to face his twin. "Hikaru?" he inquired softly.

Hikaru looked away for a moment, as if trying to decide something, and then straightened up and strode over to Kyoya, positioning himself so that their faces were uncomfortably close. His expression was tense.

"Do you love her?" he demanded in a low voice.

Kyoya resisted the urge to roll his eyes in annoyance. _Why does everyone feel the need to keep asking me this?_ "I do."

"Do you swear that you will always take care of her and treat her well, no matter what happens?"

"Yes."

"Swear it!" Hikaru shouted, his voice cracking slightly.

"Hikaru!" Kaoru grabbed his brother's arm in protest.

"Fine, I swear," Kyoya said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Hikaru stared at him for another moment, as if trying to gauge his sincerity, and then finally relented. "Okay," he said quietly, looking away. "If that's really the case, then I'm with you, too."

"Great!" Honey chirped, eager to break the tension of the moment. He looked around from face to face. "So…now what do we do?"

"Simple," Kyoya said, straightening and wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Now we find Haruhi."

Chapter 10: A World Apart

Of course, "finding Haruhi" was much easier said than done. Both of Haruhi's letters indicated that she had left the country, so their first step was to check the passenger lists of all flights leaving Japan around the time Haruhi had disappeared. Normally, this kind of information wasn't available to the public, but money was a powerful motivator, and Kyoya only had to pull a few strings to get the information they needed.

"She didn't fly out of Narita, that's for sure," Hikaru said after looking through the list of flights leaving Tokyo's main airport.

"I don't see her name on anything out of Haneda or Kansai either," Kaoru added.

"Is it possible that she is travelling under a false name?" Honey asked.

"Possible, but unlikely," Kyoya said. "They check IDs carefully before letting you board a plane, and I doubt Haruhi had the time or connections to get a false document made before she left. Keep checking. Maybe she flew out of one of the smaller airports…"

"I've got it!" Tamaki shouted suddenly. They all turned to him. "Here! September 25, on a flight out of Central Tokyo Airport." The Club members gathered around him and pored over the document. "Fujioka, Haruhi. Seat 7B. Destination: Frankfurt, Germany."

Kyoya thought for a moment. "That makes sense. I know she does speak some German, so she probably went there because she knew she would be able to communicate."

"Do you think she stayed there?" Tamaki asked.

"It's definitely worth checking out, but if I had to guess…" Kyoya paused.

"What?" Hikaru asked.

_Haruhi does speak some German, but not that much. Other than Japanese, the only language she's really fluent in is English. If she really is planning to be on the run for a while, then it follows that she would want to be somewhere she could get around without too much difficulty. Somewhere safe and sufficiently far away, yet also comfortable and familiar... _

"She's in the United States," he said suddenly.

The hosts looked at him in surprise. "Huh?" Kaoru asked at the same moment that Hikaru demanded, "How the hell do you know?"

"Think about it," Kyoya said. "She's trying to get away from Japan, but she's not going to go somewhere unfamiliar, where she doesn't speak the language and she doesn't know anyone. Given her circumstances, she has to know she will need help at some point, even if she's okay on her own now. She went to college in the U.S., so she will definitely have friends there. Plus, her English is probably flawless at this point. She'll have no trouble getting around."

"Still..." Tamaki mused, picking up Kyoya's train of thought. "Even if you're right, the United States is a very large country. She could be anywhere."

"True, but she'll probably have a hard time resisting the urge to contact her old friends in Boston. If we can get hold of them, they might be able to help us find her."

"Okay," Hikaru said crossly, "but how do we find them? None of us went to college with her, remember? We have no idea who her friends were at that time."

"We were there for a year in high school, though," Kaoru pointed out. "Maybe Haruhi stayed in touch with some of the people we knew."

"Plus, Ranka would probably know who some of her friends from college were," Tamaki said, shooting a sideways glance at Kyoya. It had been three days since Ranka had punched Kyoya in the face, and no one had really had the nerve to contact him since then. "I'll call him," Tamaki volunteered. "He'll be happy to know we have a lead, right? I'm sure he'll be willing to help…"

Kyoya's face remained neutral. "Yes, Tamaki, please do. In the meantime, Hikaru and Kaoru, please try to make a list of American friends you remember from high school that we could contact. Honey and Mori—"

"We'll track down the lead in Frankfurt," Honey interrupted. "Even if she is most likely in the U.S., we can't assume she didn't stay in Germany. We will follow up on that."

Kyoya nodded in assent. "I will check in with the police to update them on our findings. Plus, I believe they currently have Haruhi's laptop in their custody. There might be some clues on that as well."

"All right then, men, you have your assignments," Tamaki took over, his voice assuming the commanding and princely air that always indicated the start of a new Host Club caper. "Now, move out!"

A few weeks later, half a world away from the chaotic frenzy she had created, Haruhi sipped quietly at her tea as she stared blankly out the window. She was wrapped cozily in a woolen blanket to ward off the New England late autumn chill. These days, she felt like she could never get warm enough.

"Haruhi, are you all right?" Ayame Motoko, a Japanese ex-patriot currently teaching grade school in the U.S., looked over at her friend with concern.

"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm okay. Just thinking."

"What about?" Ayame settled next to Haruhi on the couch.

"I was just thinking…that maybe it's time I was moving on. It was wonderful of you to let me stay here for a while, but I can't impose on you forever."

"What are you talking about? You know you can stay here as long as you need to. Plus, you really aren't looking well. I don't like the idea of you going off by yourself."

"Yes, but…"

"But what?" Ayame looked at her intently. "Haruhi, why won't you tell me what's going on? I don't even know why you're here. Didn't you get some big job offer back in Japan?"

"It didn't work out."

"Bullshit." Ayame's eyes flashed angrily. "Look, Haruhi, I've been trying to be respectful of your privacy, but I am really worried about you, and you won't even talk to me! Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?"

"I'm really sorry."

Ayame's expression softened a bit. "It's okay," she said gently, putting an arm around Haruhi's shoulders. "I just want to help, that's all."

Touched by her friend's kindness, Haruhi's eyes welled up unexpectedly. _Damn hormones_, she thought. _I'm glad Kyoya can't see me like this._

In spite of her best efforts to suppress it, Kyoya had been in her thoughts constantly since she had left Japan. She kept replaying all the things that had happened between them since the reunion dinner two months prior, like a collage of overlapping images. At the time, it had felt like everything was happening too quickly to process, but now she had nothing but free time in which to review and reflect. Unfortunately, the more she thought about it, the more guilty she felt for what she had done. She tried to picture Kyoya's face as he read her letter. She knew how much it would hurt him to see that. On some level, she had probably been trying to hurt him. But why? What had he done except try to make the best of a bad situation? He had gone about it clumsily, of course, but his heart had been in the right place. Why was she so determined to make him suffer?

"_You are the last person I should marry, the last person my family would approve of. You are a commoner, and a loudmouth, and a troublemaker, and in spite of everything I can't stop thinking about you!"_

She had called him a liar because doing so hurt less than acknowledging the truth of his words. She was everything he said she was and more. She was horrible. She didn't deserve him.

"_I love you. I have always loved you."_

It couldn't be true. She didn't think she could bear it if it was true.

"_Haruhi…" _In her mind, she saw him gazing down at her, those beautiful, sad grey eyes filled with pain. It would appear that the once-terrifying Shadow King did have a heart after all. He had given it to her…and she had broken it.

"Oh God, what have I done?" she whispered, for the moment completely forgetting where she was.

Ayame looked down at her friend, unsure of what to do. Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around Haruhi and began to rub her back softly.

"It's all right," she murmured. "Everything will be all right."

They were interrupted by the ringing of Ayame's landline phone. Haruhi's muscles tensed instinctively. "It's okay," Ayame said soothingly. "I'll just let it go to voicemail."

"No," Haruhi sniffled, pulling back. "You should get it. I need to get a tissue anyway."

"All right." Ayame stood up and walked over to the phone. Behind her, Haruhi shuffled towards the kitchenette. Ayame picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

Haruhi pulled a leaf of paper towel off the rack and blew her nose loudly, then grabbed a glass and began to fill it with water from the tap. She turned back around in time to hear Ayame say, "Yes, of course I remember you. So what is it you need, Kyoya?"

_Crash._

Ayame whirled around, taking in the shattered glass, the pooling water, and Haruhi's pale face. "Haruhi!" she cried, "Are you all right?" She turned back to the phone. "I'm sorry," she said hurriedly into the receiver, "I'll have to call you back!" She slammed to the phone down into the cradle. "Okay," she said to Haruhi, "just stay still. You're not wearing shoes, right? Just give me a second and I'll sweep up the glass." She grabbed a broom and dustpan from the corner and started to clean up the shards. "Jesus," she said as she swept up the last pieces, "you scared me." She dumped the fragments into the trashcan and turned around to face Haruhi. "Are you sure you're all ri—"

She stopped short at the sight of Haruhi's face, which was chalk white and filled with abject terror. "Oh my God. Haruhi, are you okay? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" She took a step in Haruhi's direction but was stopped when the phone started ringing again. Haruhi let out an involuntary yelp, then covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes darted toward the phone. Ayame followed her gaze. "Do you want me not to answer it?" Haruhi did not respond. Instead, they both watched the phone and waited until it stopped ringing. Ayame released the breath she had been holding. "Haruhi—"

_Ring!_

"God dammit!" Ayame stalked over to the phone and snatched up the receiver. "What!"

"Is Haruhi there?"

"What?"

"When I called, just now, I heard you say 'Haruhi, are you all right?' Is she there?"

Ayame turned around to face Haruhi. "Is Haruhi here?" she repeated slowly. Haruhi shook her head slightly. Ayame nodded.

"No, she isn't here," she said firmly.

"I know that she is," Kyoya shot back. "I just need to talk to her."

"Sorry, but you can't."

"Please, Ayame," he pleaded. "Please let me talk to her."

"She doesn't want to talk to you, Kyoya."

"Ayame—"

"I'm hanging up now, Kyoya."

"Oi, listen to me for a second, will you? Did Haruhi bother to tell you that she's pregnant?"

Ayame froze, her hand halfway to the phone cradle. She slowly raised the receiver to her ear again, keeping her expression neutral and her voice even.

"What?"

"She's pregnant. Did she mention that? She's also been officially missing for a month and her family and friends are incredibly worried about her. Now please. Let me talk to her."

Ayame turned to glance at Haruhi. From her guilty expression, Ayame guessed that she had been able to hear quite a bit of the conversation. The brown eyes were downcast, and all the life seemed to have drained out of her. Ayame deliberated for a moment, and then made up her mind.

"Kyoya, I can't let you talk to her right now," she said firmly. "However, I _can _promise that I will talk to her, and that I will give her your message. Can you give me a number where she can reach you?"

He hesitated, and she guessed he was struggling with the desire to say more. If she recalled correctly, Kyoya Ootori was not a man who was used to hearing the word "no." Still, Haruhi clearly wasn't up to talking to him, and that took precedence right now. She waited. Finally, she heard Kyoya sigh. "All right," he relented, and gave her the number of his personal extension at home. "Please tell her to call me," he said.

"I will," said Ayame, and hung up.

Across the room, Haruhi's body sagged and she dropped to her knees, her face in her hands. Ayame walked over to her, hauled her up by her elbow, and dragged her over to the couch. Haruhi was surprised and a little frightened by her roughness. She looked up to see Ayame towering over her, her expression black.

"Haruhi. You are going to tell me. Exactly. What is going on. Right. Now."

Haruhi whimpered slightly, then nodded. Ayame had gone out of her way to protect her. She deserved answers.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"So, let me get this straight," Ayame said a half hour later, "you and Kyoya got drunk and had sex; you got pregnant; he asked you to _marry him_, and then you quit your job, took off, and flew halfway around the world without telling anyone because, and I quote, 'it seemed like a good idea at the time'?"

"Pretty much."

"You're an idiot."

Haruhi stared at her. "Thanks for breaking it so gently."

"Well you are! I mean, you know I love you, sweetie, but that was a _really _dumb thing to do. What if something had happened to you and no one knew where you were? Do you know how dangerous that could have been?"

"You know where I am," Haruhi pointed out reasonably.

"Which is great and all, but it does not negate my point. You could _at least _have told your father."

Haruhi hung her head. "I know. That was badly done of me."

"You should call him."

"I will. Later."

"And anyways," Ayame went on, "I still don't understand why you felt the need to go on the lam like that. I'm pretty sure Kyoya can't force you to marry him if you don't want to."

"Yes, that's true," Haruhi admitted. "Legally, anyway."

"So, what, you're saying that he _can _force you to, not 'legally'?" Ayame persisted.

"No, it's just that…Kyoya always gets what he wants. And not just because he's rich and used to having people do what he tells them." She paused. "Although that is true, too. Anyway, he's smart and well connected, and he knows how to manipulate people. Not just with money, either. With _leverage. _He figures out what you want and then finds a way to dangle it in front of you until you give in. And he's _stubborn. _I mean—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa? Stubborn? _Stubborn? _You want to talk about stubborn? Haruhi, you flew halfway around the world to avoid doing something you didn't want to do! I'm pretty sure you win the prize on that one."

Haruhi blushed. She had a point. Ayame pressed on.

"So tell me, then, why were you so convinced that this was the only way out? What does Kyoya have on you? Besides, you know…" She mimed a large dome shape over her stomach. Haruhi couldn't suppress a giggle.

Ayame smiled. "Seriously, though, Haruhi, what is it? What exactly is Kyoya's 'leverage' that you're so afraid he'll use against you?"

Haruhi thought for a moment. "It's not like that," she said slowly. "There's nothing specific that he can blackmail or bribe me with. Money, or power, or prestige, or anything like that. I mean, he _did _try that, but we both knew that it wouldn't do any good. So then—"She suddenly stopped.

Ayame frowned. "What is it?"

Haruhi pressed her fingers against her temples. _Ayame's right. What does Kyoya have on me? Why am I so afraid of giving in to him? To that point, why am I so certain that, sooner or later, I will give in? Guilt, maybe? A sense of obligation? The knowledge that, on some level, he's right?_

_The fact that the very person I'm running from is the one I actually want to be with the most?_

"Oh no," Haruhi said aloud, her voice low.

"What?" Ayame asked again. "Haruhi, just spit it out."

"It's him."

"Huh?"

Haruhi lowered her voice. "The leverage that Kyoya has on me… is Kyoya himself."

Ayame raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Okay, I'm really confused now."

Haruhi flushed a deep red. "I think…I'm in love with Kyoya."

"Whoa." Ayame leaned back against that couch. "Well _that's _a heavy epiphany."

"No, it makes perfect sense." Haruhi's brain was spinning furiously. "All this time, I've been trying to figure out why the idea of marrying Kyoya scared me so much. Arranged marriages happen all the time among the upper class; and anyway, it's not like he would interfere with my professional ambitions. If anything, he would encourage and support them. But…it would be a marriage based on a mistake. Not on love, or any kind of mutual desire. And Kyoya can do better than me; we both know that! If we were married, I would spend my entire life wondering if he regretted it…wondering if he hated me for wrecking everything. If I didn't care about him, it probably wouldn't matter so much. But if I loved him, and spent a lifetime by his side knowing he could never love me…" She trailed off.

"What?" Ayame asked gently.

"I really couldn't bear it!" Haruhi suddenly wailed. "I would rather die than live like that!" She covered her head with her arms and began to cry in earnest.

"Oh, Haruhi," Ayame sighed, reaching out to stroke her friend's hair. "Sweetie. Are you really just realizing all this now?" Haruhi nodded miserably. Ayame sighed. "Shh, shh, it's okay. We'll figure things out."

For a few minutes, they sat like that; then, as Haruhi began to quiet down, Ayame pulled away slightly and put a hand against Haruhi's tear-streaked face, forcing her to look up. "And for what it's worth, Haruhi" she said quietly, "he can't do better than you. Not in any of the ways that matter." Haruhi's face crumpled as a fresh wave of tears washed over her. Ayame cursed herself silently, then pulled Haruhi into her arms. "Don't worry. Everything will be all right in the end. I promise you, it will."

Chapter 11: Swing and a (Near) Miss

The next morning, Ayame awoke to find Haruhi packing. "What are you doing?" she asked sleepily.

"Ayame," Haruhi looked up and smiled. "Good morning. I'm just getting my things together."

Instantly, Ayame was awake and on her guard. "Why?"

"Well, emotional breakthroughs notwithstanding, I'm not ready to go home yet, and I can't stay here anymore." Haruhi paused in her packing to look at Ayame pointedly. "He knows where I am now."

"So?"

"If he knows where I am, he will come looking for me. And I'm still not ready to be found."

"What makes you so sure? It's not like it's that easy for him to just fly over here…"

"Yes, it is. You know he has a private jet, right?"

Ayame gaped. "No, I did not know that. Jesus, Haruhi, just how rich are these friends of yours?"

"Very rich," Haruhi said, folding a sweater. "They are all a bunch of conceited rich bastards." She grinned at the thought, then sobered. "Make no mistake, he will come. And I don't want to be here when he does."

"But where will you go?"

"I'm not sure. I'll figure it out."

"Haruhi." Ayame stood up and caught Haruhi by the shoulders. "No. No more running off on your own."

"But—"

"I'll help you," Ayame said quietly. "Listen to me, Haruhi. There are definitely a few ways that I can be of help to you. For one thing, it's not good that you have so much cash on you. It's better for you to deposit it into a local bank. If you aren't willing to set up your own account, we can deposit the money into a second checking account that I will set up under my name. It will have its own debit card and checks, which I can give to you. As long as you don't use the card for any over-the-counter purchases that require ID, you should be fine. Just use it at ATMs or for online purchases.

"Also," she continued. "You should get a job. I know," she continued as Haruhi begin to protest, "I know you can't legally work in this country. But there are a lot of wealthy families in the areas around the city that are willing to hire nannies and au pairs under the table. As long as you have good references, they'll pay in cash, and you won't need a work permit. I knew a lot of girls who did nanny work in college; so I'm pretty sure I can hook you up. This way, you'll be financially independent. You will also be able to live and work nearby, without Kyoya being able to sniff out your address. I won't let him near you if you don't want to see him.

"And third," she said, rushing on before Haruhi could say anything else. "I need you to _promise_ that you will get regular pre-natal care. Without insurance, it will be difficult to do so through a regular doctor, but there are Planned Parenthood centers in the area that can help you there for pretty cheap. And once the baby comes, I will be there to help you. Okay?"

Haruhi hesitated. Ayame looked at her anxiously. "Please, Haruhi, do this for me. I know how much you value your independence, but you don't need to do everything by yourself. I'm here and I swear you can rely on me." She clasped Haruhi's hand in both of her own. "Please, let me do this for you."

Haruhi smiled at her friend. "Okay," she said finally.

Ayame leapt up off the bed. "Great! Fantastic! Okay. How about breakfast? On me, of course." She hurried out the door, dragging Haruhi behind her by the wrist. Haruhi smiled at her friend's back. _Okay, _she thought silently. _The time for tears is done. It's time to move forward. _

As predicted, Kyoya showed up at Ayame's doorstep less than two days later. Kyoya gave three short raps and waited. After a minute or so, the door swung open and Ayame leaned casually against the doorframe.

"Oh, it's you," she greeted him. "You know, it's really creepy the way you two can predict each other's movements like that."

"Nice to see you, too," Kyoya retorted. "You're looking well. Is Haruhi here?"

"Of course not. She left yesterday."

Kyoya's eye twitched slightly. "What?"

"Like I said, she knew you were coming. So she cleared out." They eyed each other coolly for a moment before Ayame sighed. "Would you like to come in?"

Kyoya was half-tempted to refuse. He and Ayame had never gotten along particularly well, and the reasons why were rapidly coming back to him. However, he couldn't afford to walk away without finding out what she knew about Haruhi's whereabouts. He gritted his teeth. "I would love to, Ayame, thank you."

Ayame glared at him for another long moment before stepping aside and allowing Kyoya entrance to the apartment. _Small_, was his first thought. _Shabby. I'll bet Haruhi was right at home here. _He knew the thought was mean-spirited, but he was feeling rather cross at the moment. _Of course, it was too much to hope that she'd stay put for 48 whole hours…_

Ayame closed the door behind him and then stood with her arms crossed on her chest as Kyoya seated himself on her couch. He could feel the hostility coming off her in waves. She twisted her face into something that was supposed to resemble a smile as she growled out, "Tea?"

"Thank you, no." _It's probably poisoned. _"Ayame, I assume you know why I'm here."

"Chasing down your pregnant 'Not-Quite-Fiancée', what else?"

"She never called me back. I gave her an entire day in which to do so."

"Gracious of you."

_Well, this is getting nowhere. Might as well get right to the point. _"Ayame, I need to find her. I'd like to enlist your help."

Ayame clenched her fists, but visibly struggled to keep her cool. "That so?"

"Yes. You know as well as I do that it isn't a good idea for her to be on her own. Not now."

"She's not on her own. Not anymore."

Kyoya leaned forward, his gaze intense and intimidating. "Ayame, do you know where she is?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

"That's not what I asked." _Don't break eye contact. Keep the pressure on. _

Ayame bit her lip and averted her gaze. _She definitely knows_, Kyoya thought. He was about to say something else when she surprised him by sitting down in the chair directly across from him and leaned forward, her expression frank and sincere.

"Okay, Kyoya," she said quietly. "I do know. And I can tell you that she is somewhere safe. But that is all that you will get from me. Bribe, blackmail, or threaten me, I don't care. I won't tell you anything else."

In spite of himself, Kyoya couldn't keep the frustration out of his voice. "Why the hell not? Do you think I _like _putting my entire life on hold to go on a wild goose chase? I'm here for exactly two reasons, the first of which is that she is essentially holding my child hostage. I have a _right _to know what's going on here!" He ran his fingers through his hair. "What right did she have to run off without saying a word?"

Ayame looked at him thoughtfully. "And the second reason?"

Kyoya's cheeks reddened slightly. "I am also…concerned for Haruhi's well-being," he said carefully.

"Ah," Ayame said. The knowing expression in her eyes made Kyoya furious.

"Damn it, Ayame, what's it going to take?" he demanded, slamming his fist on the side table next to him. "What do I need to do to convince you to tell me where she is?"

Ayame leaned back in her chair and eyed him thoughtfully for a moment. "Back off," she said finally.

"Excuse me?"

"Call off the chase. Leave her alone. Stop treating her like you already own her. She doesn't belong to you, Kyoya, and while I admit that running off like that was irresponsible, did it ever occur to you that maybe she had her own reasons for doing so?"

"I know she did," Kyoya said, his jaw tensing. "That's why I need to find her. To make amends."

"No, you want to find her because you're pissed that you got left behind. It hurt your pride, didn't it, to be not only rejected, but also made a mockery of, when she slipped through your fingers so easily?"

Kyoya winced involuntarily. "You don't know anything," he said defensively.

"Oh, I know a hell of a lot more than you do, Rich Boy." Ayame leaned forward again. "For one thing, I know why she ran. The real reason."

Kyoya snorted derisively. "And what was that?" he asked.

"She's afraid of you! And…" Ayame paused slightly, "she's afraid of herself too. Of what she'll do around you. Of what she feels…" She turned her gaze angrily on him and pointed her finger accusingly. "And you scared her off because you were too clumsy and overbearing to give her the space and safety she needed to come to her own conclusions! You just steamrolled over her, never asking her what _she _thought, what _she _felt, what _she _wanted…"

"You're overstepping, Ayame," Kyoya's voice had taken on a sharp warning tone.

Ayame frowned. "Maybe," she admitted. "But here's the thing. I'm the one who has the information you need, so if you want it, you have to play by my rules."

Kyoya had never wanted so strongly to punch a woman in his life. "And what are they?" he ground out.

"Simple. To me, Haruhi's well-being is top priority, and so I am putting it before every other consideration. Until you can prove to me that you're doing the same, I will not tell you where she is."

Kyoya had had enough. He stood up, and Ayame rose with him. "I see," he said coldly. "Well, I am sorry to have troubled you. I will be going now." He began to walk briskly towards the door, but he stopped with his hand on the doorknob when he heard Ayame speaking quietly behind him.

"Kyoya. If you agree to call off the search completely…what I mean is…if you love her enough to leave her alone until she's ready to come back to you…then…I'll call you when the baby is born."

Kyoya stiffened at her words but did not turn around. He suddenly felt very tired. "Good night, Ayame," he said as he turned the handle, and walked out the door.

Chapter 12: Taking Care of Business

Kyoya did not sleep that night. Ayame's accusations kept running through his head. Was Haruhi really that afraid of him? Were his own motives in chasing after her so twisted? If he looked into his own heart, yes, okay, he could admit that he was angry and hurt that she had run from him, but he was genuinely worried, too. Did that count for nothing?

Of course, there was always the chance that Ayame had just been trying to get under his skin; normally, he wouldn't put such a thing past her. Yet he somehow didn't think that was the case. It was true that he and Ayame had never been particularly friendly, but she had always been very protective when it came to Haruhi, and he had no doubt that her concern was real. As annoyed as he was to be on the receiving end of her barbs, he was also glad to know that Haruhi had a friend she could count on.

The real question was, what should he do now? The idea of simply giving up infuriated him, but he had to think seriously about what was best for Haruhi. Was he inadvertently hurting her by continuing to hunt for her? If she wanted to stay away from him so badly that she was willing to sacrifice everything in order to do so, did he really have the right to chase her so far?

_I have a father's right, _he reminded himself. _The child that she carries is mine as well. I have the right to claim what is mine._

But… even if the baby was his, Haruhi was not. As much as it annoyed him, he had to acknowledge that. She was too stubborn, too strong, too independent to submit to the notion that she belonged to anyone. If he was honest, it was something he had always admired about her, despite the fact that it was causing him so much trouble now. _As much as I want to make her mine, _he thought_, I will never be able to do so completely. She loves her freedom too much. _

Kyoya fidgeted as he readjusted his head on the pillow. _Damn it, why does it bother me so much that she wants to keep her independence? I shouldn't really begrudge her that, right? Hell, I envy her for it! She has a kind of freedom that I will never have. All my life, I have been treated like a pawn by my father, living the life that was expected of me, following orders, doing what I was told…_

He suddenly opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. That was it. That was the real issue. _I'm angry at Haruhi because she's refusing to submit to my wishes; but the truth is that I am jealous of her, because she's doing what I never could. There was always a part of me that wished I could defy my father like that, and live my own life outside of his shadow. But I never had the strength to break away. And yet here I am, trying to force her to be like me…_

He felt a sharp pang of regret. Ayame was right. He had been trying to steamroll over Haruhi, disregarding her feelings entirely. He had only been treating her the way he was used to being treated, but that didn't make it right. _I was raised in a gilded cage, _he thought, _but she is used to being free. If I try to capture her now, and force her to share this cage with me, it will destroy her. Can I really do that, and still claim to love her?_

At 7:00 a.m., Kyoya reached for his phone and dialed Ayame's number. She answered after the fourth ring, her voice still sleepy.

"Hello?"

"You win."

"What? Is this Kyoya?"

"Yes. I said, you win. I will call off the search. I trust you will keep your promise." He disconnected before she could reply.

Three hours later, he was en route back to Japan.

The Host Club was relieved to hear that Haruhi was all right, but very disappointed when Kyoya told them he was officially calling off the search.

"But I thought we were going to bring her back!" Hikaru complained loudly.

"Yeah," chimed in Kaoru. "What gives?"

"She doesn't want to come back for now," Kyoya said evenly, "and we can't force her to. It's enough to know she is all right."

He caught Tamaki eyeing him from across the room. The blond boy raised an eyebrow. _Is it really enough, Kyoya?_

Kyoya gave the slightest tilt of his chin in reply. _It has to be, at least for now. _

Besides, there were other matters to attend to.

A few weeks after Kyoya returned from the United States, he was summoned into a meeting with Yoshio.

The doors of Yoshio Ootori's study were crafted of solid mahogany, with ornately carved designs decorating the polished red-brown wood. Kyoya took a moment to study them before raising his hand to knock, running his fingers lightly over the twisting curves of the design. They were so familiar, but at the same time, so alien to him. How many times had he stood in front of these same doors, wondering what new misery his father was going to unleash upon him? He could measure his childhood growth by the changing patterns in front of his eyes, as surely as other children used pencils and measuring sticks. Yet, no matter how many times he appeared before them, the designs never seemed to resolve themselves into any kind of sense. All he could see in them, even now, was the all-too-familiar warning: _Beyond these doors lies the Sanctum Sanctorum of Yoshio Ootori. Proceed at your own peril._

Kyoya took a deep breath, schooled his features into an emotionless mask, and rapped his knuckles sharply on the carved wood. After a long moment, he heard Yoshio's voice from inside, bidding him to enter. He grasped one of the polished brass handles and swung the door open, then stepped boldly into the lair of the enemy.

"Close the door, will you, Kyoya?" his father said nonchalantly, without bothering to look up from his paperwork.

Kyoya tried not to wince at the dismissive tone in his father's voice. Yoshio's lack of proper acknowledgement was an intentional rudeness; the opening salvo had been fired. Kyoya quickly turned and pulled the heavy door shut behind him. The _click_ of the latch echoed loudly in the silence of the chamber. He took a few steps further into the room.

"Father", he acknowledged coolly, refusing to be cowed. Yoshio finally looked up at this, and took in the stiff formality and blank expression of his third son. For a moment, they simply eyed each other warily; and then Yoshio arranged his face into what Kyoya guessed was supposed to pass for a fatherly smile.

"Won't you sit down, son?"

"Thank you." Kyoya took a seat in front of his father's desk, keeping his back straight.

"Tea?" Yoshio indicated the steaming teapot on a silver tray next to his desk.

"That would be lovely." Another long silence passed as Kyoya poured two cups and passed one to Yoshio. He took only a small sip from his own cup before setting it back down on its saucer and folding his hands in his lap. Yoshio, on the other hand, seemed to be taking his time enjoying the tea. It took all of Kyoya's considerable willpower not to be the first to break the silence. Instead, he tensed his fingers until he could feel his nails biting into the skin, and waited.

After what seemed like an eternity, Yoshio finally set his teacup down and turned to face Kyoya.

"I suppose you are wondering why I called you here."

Kyoya did not respond. He was well aware that if he said that he had been surprised at Yoshio's summons, he would sound naïve and ill-informed. If, on the other hand, he indicated that he did know why he had been called, it was as good as confessing his guilt. Best to stay silent and not prematurely dig his own grave. Yoshio waited another moment for him to speak, then gave a small sigh and proceeded.

"Actually, Kyoya, there are a few things I have been meaning to discuss with you. The first concerns a friend and former classmate of yours. Miss Haruhi…Fujioka, I believe her name was?"

Kyoya looked up quickly upon hearing Haruhi's name, the neutral mask slipping just long enough to show his alarm. Yoshio gave a small, self-satisfied chuckle at his response, and Kyoya's ears reddened in embarrassment. _That was obviously a deliberate provocation, and I walked right into it. But my father isn't one to simply tease for the hell of it. What is he really after? _

"Well, as you know, Kyoya, Miss Fujioka was working at a law firm that had planned to do business with the Ootori conglomerate. Given your high regard for her, I thought that it might be interesting to try her out on the team assigned to our representation; but just as the deal was about to go through, she suddenly vanished without a trace."

Kyoya clenched his jaw in anger. Yoshio wasn't even trying to make the bald-faced lies sound convincing. He knew his father was baiting him. He didn't want to rise to it a second time, and yet…

"I think it is something of an understatement to say you were planning to 'try her out on the team', Father," he found himself saying. "My understanding is that you were planning to have her _lead_ the team, despite the fact that she is still a junior attorney within the firm. My regard for her notwithstanding, wasn't it a bit _irresponsible _to place her in such a position?" He smiled pleasantly and took another sip of tea. He was rewarded when he saw the corner of Yoshio's lip curl into a small snarl.

"That is beside the point! The _point_ is that this girl disappeared the exact day I tried to promote her." He glared at Kyoya pointedly. "I don't suppose you had anything to do with that?"

"I can safely say that it was entirely her own doing," Kyoya retorted. "And if you knew anything about that girl at all, you would have guessed that already. She has a strong independent spirit, and an even stronger will. She forcefully resists any attempts at control or coercion, even the ones that are well-intentioned." _I definitely learned that the hard way_. "Did you imagine Haruhi would simply give in just like that?"

"Oh… 'Haruhi', is it?" Yoshio's smile had suddenly turned cunning. Inside Kyoya's head, warning bells started to go off. "I didn't realize the two of you were so close."

"Well…we are…good friends," Kyoya stuttered, trying to regain his footing. "We have known each other since high school, after all."

"Good friends!" Yoshio pounced. "Of course, you are good friends! That explains everything! So, what, your 'good friend' came crying to you about how bothersome it was going to be for her at work, how _hard _things were going to become, all because your evil father tried to promote her, and so you seized the opportunity to try to undermine me!"

"What? Of course not! How little do you think of me?" Kyoya could feel his face turning red. He was genuinely offended by the accusation. His professional rivalry with his father notwithstanding, he would never stoop to such a blatant and clumsy tactic. If he had actually been trying to undermine his father, he thought somewhat smugly, the old man would have never seen it coming.

"Don't fool with me, Kyoya!" Yoshio's expression had turned livid. "You know damn well that 'good friends' is just a convenient excuse. An Ootori doesn't have _any_ friends except when he can use them, and you should understand that better than anyone!"

Kyoya's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"You stupid, ungrateful boy! Do you really hate me so much that you would be deliberately undermine a plan that I undertook for your own benefit? Idiot! I knew I should have just married you off to Makito family's daughter. She may not have been the brightest girl in the world, but at least _she _was compliant." Yoshio sighed, suddenly looking drained. "Why must you constantly oppose my attempts to help you?"

Kyoya was stunned. _Help me? He said he was trying to help me? _Well, _this_ conversation had certainly taken a disquieting turn. "Father," he said carefully. "I'm afraid I don't quite follow. What are you talking about?"

Yoshio paused, suddenly looking confused. "I'm talking about the marriage. Between you and Fujioka. Wait, you…you didn't know?"

Kyoya thought furiously, trying to put the pieces together. Yoshio's insistence on Haruhi taking the lead on the Ootori account would have meant…what? More work than she could handle, not to mention a lot of bullying at the hands of her co-workers. Yoshio had to know that she wouldn't perform as well as someone with more experience, so why put her in that position and risk the Ootori reputation? There was no rational explanation unless…Kyoya paused, and the answer hit him like a slap to the face. A test. It was a test. Yoshio wanted to see how well she could perform under pressure. Which meant he had plans for her… and Kyoya.

Yoshio's last words finally registered, and Kyoya looked up at his father suddenly. "You…were thinking about arranging a marriage between me and Haruhi. So you wanted to test her?"

Yoshio eyed his son, suddenly wary again. "Yes. I thought you knew."

Unexpectedly, Kyoya started to laugh. It began as a chuckle, and then grew until he was shaking uncontrollably with mirth. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Yoshio was regarding him with the bizarre combination of shock, horror, and confusion; the sheer ridiculousness of it just caused him to double over again.

After a moment, Yoshio collected himself and snapped, "What the hell is so goddamned funny?"

"It's just…" Kyoya held his aching side with one hand and wiped the tears streaming from his eyes with the other. "It's just so funny. So horribly, ironically funny. To think that you and I would actually have the same idea, and that idiotic girl still got the better of both of us!" He dissolved into giggles again.

"Kyoya!" Yoshio thundered. When Kyoya looked up, he instantly realized that he had crossed a line. His father had circled around the desk and was now towering over him, seething dangerously. "Kyoya," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "What…have…you…done?"

His laughter finally fading, Kyoya sobered enough to consider his situation. Somewhere in the rational section of his brain, he was aware that he should be terrified. He had only seen his father looking this angry a few times in his life, and those occasions usually resulted in utter destruction of the unfortunate target of Yoshio's wrath. Yet, for some reason, right now he just didn't care. It was as if some long-held tether deep within him had finally snapped. His father no longer looked frightening; he simply looked ludicrous, with his face all red and his chest heaving in agitation. Kyoya stifled another chuckle, and then smiled charmingly. _If I'm going to burn my bridges, I might as well do so with some flair._

"Oh, didn't you know?" he said cheerfully. "I also asked Haruhi to marry me. She's pregnant, you see; that's why she took off and abandoned your carefully constructed plan so inconsiderately. Oh, and yes, before you ask, the child is mine. I'd have one of our doctors do a paternity test for you, but Haruhi decided to run away to America rather than accept my offer, and now I can't find her at all! I guess you could say we both failed equally in our attempts to coerce her into doing what we wanted—"

Yoshio slapped him across the face.

After the briefest of pauses, Kyoya turned back to face his father, and grinned malevolently. He rose from his chair and was gratified to see his father take a small step back. "Is that all you've got, old man?" he murmured, his voice as soft and smooth as a cat's purr. "Haruhi's tranny father at least had the decency to punch me like a man when he found out. And all you can manage is this stupid little slap? How sad."

He straightened up and brushed some imaginary dust off his suit jacket. "This interview is over. Going forward, I'd appreciate it if you stayed out of my personal affairs. They are mine to manage, for better or worse."

"This is not just about your life!" Yoshio shrieked as Kyoya turned to walk away. "This is about the Ootori family name! Have you even given the slightest thought to the consequences of your actions?"

Kyoya stopped and spoke quietly, without turning around. "I have…given a great deal of thought to it. Rest assured that I will take every precaution to ensure that the Ootori name remains pristine. But I…have had something of a change in priorities. And I will see this thing through to the end."

With that, Kyoya strode towards the carved doors and let himself out of the room, ignoring the continued shouts of his father. The damage he had just done to his relationship with his father, and certainly to his standing in the Ootori family, was likely irreparable. Yet now, for the first time in his life, he passed through the carved mahogany doors with his head held high and a satisfied smile on his lips. He had never felt so free.

Chapter 13: Prelude to a Birth

Haruhi had never felt so weighted down. She had always been small and slight, and the sudden weight gain that came with the last trimester of her pregnancy had been difficult to bear. The last few weeks especially, the basketball-shaped object residing in her abdomen felt like it had doubled in size. She had done her best to keep fit over the last several months, but now even the act of waddling from one place to another alone was enough to sap all of her energy. She had been grateful to return to Ayame's apartment after her au pair job had ended. It was nice to be able to rest somewhere peaceful.

Of course, the downside to all of that leisure time was that there was nothing to keep her mind busy. Cleaning houses and looking after small children had been physically exhausting, but it had left her with little time to ruminate. As long as she was working, she could avoid thinking about Kyoya, and what her own future would hold once motherhood proper began.

Now, as she quietly sipped her oolong tea and flipped idly through one of Ayame's _Cosmo_ magazines, she found her mind wandering again down that well-worn track. What, exactly, would she do once the baby was born? The only thing she knew for sure was that she wanted to go back to Japan. There had been a time, back in college, when she had considered staying in the United States indefinitely. After all, there were many career opportunities here, and she had come to love the country's people and culture. Now, though, all she could think about was how much she wanted to return home. She missed speaking Japanese, missed the familiar bustle and flow of Tokyo, missed her friends and family. She had spoken to her father fairly regularly on the phone over the past few months, but increasingly, whenever she heard his voice, it became harder and harder to avoid breaking down into tears. She wanted to see his face so badly, wanted to feel his arms wrapped around her. It was painful to bear such a heavy burden alone. She knew that she had no right to complain; after all, this had all been the result of her own doing. But still...

"Haruhi, I'm back."

Haruhi looked up and smiled as Ayame opened the door and entered the apartment. _Not entirely alone, _she reminded herself. "Welcome home, Ayame. How was your day?"

"It was good, I guess. The brats were at least no more annoying than usual." Ayame was an elementary school teacher at a public school in the city, and Haruhi had long ago gotten used to her caustic way of speaking about her job. It wasn't that she hated it—on the contrary, she seemed to take a great deal of pride in her work—but watching her language around children all day was apparently somewhat taxing. Ayame seemed to enjoy being able to let loose and complain when she came home, and Haruhi happily indulged her. It reminded her somewhat of her Host Club days, when she had taken such pride in her ability to please and entertain her female customers. The other guys in the club had never seemed to understand the fact that most of their wacky antics—entertaining though they were—were largely unnecessary. Most of the girls she had talked to just wanted someone to listen to and praise them. A simple enough thing to do; yet it had seemed to make them all ridiculously happy. Haruhi chuckled softly at the memory.

"What's so funny?" Ayame asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, nothing much," Haruhi replied. "I was just remembering something that happened back home…" Her voice trailed away, and she lowered her head in embarrassment. _Home, again. Ayame has been so kind to me, and here I am returning her hospitality with ingratitude. _She felt her throat tightening painfully, and gave a small hiss of annoyance. Normally, she was not such a crybaby, but the hormones coursing throughout her system had made her so emotional that these days she seemed to tear up at the slightest provocation.

Ayame, misinterpreting her troubled face, quickly walked up to Haruhi and put a concerned hand on her shoulder. "Haruhi," she said in a worried voice, "is everything all right? You don't look well at all. Did something happen?"

Haruhi shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Sorry." She desperately tried to think of a change of topic, and finding none, finally stood up from her chair and moved into the kitchen. "Anyway, I'm sure you're tired. I prepared some dinner for you earlier; I just need to heat things up…"

"It's okay, I'll do it," Ayame said, following Haruhi into the kitchen. "You just sit down and rest. Go on, now."

Haruhi opened her mouth in protest, but closed it again when Ayame shot her the "Do As I Say, Or Else" look that she had perfected on scores of rebellious children. Haruhi obediently toddled into the living area and watched Ayame as she set about uncovering and heating the dishes that Haruhi had prepared for dinner. For some reason, the silence between them seemed more awkward than usual.

"Hey, have you…?" she began.

Ayame turned her head. "Huh? Sorry I couldn't hear you. What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing," Haruhi said quickly. Ayame raised an eyebrow at her, but when Haruhi said nothing, she shrugged and turned back to the kitchen counter.

"Have you heard from Kyoya lately?" Haruhi blurted out. She saw Ayame's back stiffen in surprise. Well, she was surprised herself. She hadn't planned on talking to Ayame anymore about Kyoya, but the question had been bothering her recently. Since she had left Ayame's apartment six months before, she hadn't heard anything about him or his attempts to contact her. Of course, she had been continually on the move for a while, so there was no reason she should hear about him; but she suspected that he had been in touch with Ayame at least a few times during her absence. The fact that Ayame had not mentioned anything at all on the subject worried her slightly.

Haruhi couldn't see the expression on Ayame's face, but she noted the slight pause before her friend replied, "No, I haven't heard anything from him since you left."

"That's strange," Haruhi mused aloud. Ayame whipped her head around to look at her, the expression on her face difficult to read. Suddenly nervous, Haruhi gave a small laugh. "I mean, it's Kyoya, right? He's always so persistent! I was just surprised. That's all."

Ayame winced slightly, a guilty expression briefly flickering across her face, and then she turned her head away. "Sorry to disappoint. I honestly haven't heard from him."

"Oh, I'm not disappointed. I…" Haruhi stopped. _Am I disappointed? _She wondered. _Granted, I did all of this expressly so that he wouldn't find me, but it still seems strange that I haven't heard anything at all. Does this mean he gave up? Maybe he decided it just wasn't worth the effort. After all, I really did give him a hard time. Does that mean that he doesn't care anymore? _The thought was unexpectedly painful. _No, no, _she reminded herself stubbornly, _this is good. This is what I wanted. Right?_

"Haruhi?" She looked up in surprise to find Ayame standing over her, her expression concerned. She hadn't noticed her leave the kitchen.

"Ah, sorry! Is the food ready?" Even to hear own ears, Haruhi's voice sounded too bright, too loud. She forced a big smile. "Well, then, let's eat!" She stood up quickly from the couch, and then immediately reeled as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

"Haruhi!" Ayame grabbed her arm to stop her from falling. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, don't worry, I…ah!" Haruhi stumbled as a wave of pain lanced through her body, and sank to her knees. Ayame dropped down beside her, and put her arm around her shoulders. Haruhi pushed her face into the join of Ayame's shoulder and gritted her teeth as she endured another burst of. She could hear Ayame calling her name, but the voice seemed to be getting more and more distant. Something was happening, something was moving within her, and it hurt like hell.

"It's coming," she whispered, and shut her eyes tightly. _It's coming, Kyoya. What do I do now?_

When the call finally came, it was in the middle of a hot summer night. Kyoya had been restless, tossing and turning in his bed. He kept telling himself that it must be the weather that had him worked up into such a state, even though he knew perfectly well that the climate control system in the Ootori mansion was working flawlessly. Yet for some reason, he couldn't keep still.

He was therefore wide awake when his cell phone started to vibrate next to the bed. He grabbed the phone and peered closely at the screen. _3:02 a.m. _He hit the "Answer" button and held the phone up to his ear, his heart suddenly beating loudly in his chest. He did his best to keep his voice calm. "Hello?"

"Kyoya? It's Ayame. It looks like Haruhi is going into labor. I'm about to take her to the hospital, but I wanted to call and let you know first."

Kyoya swallowed. "I see."

There was a slightly awkward pause, and then Ayame gave him the address of the hospital and hung up. Kyoya swung himself out of bed and began to dress quickly and efficiently. By the time he walked out of his room a few minutes later, with a small overnight bag in hand and Tachibana's reassurances that the car would be waiting for him when he reached the entrance, he only had one thing left to do. He opened his phone and shot off a quick message to Tamaki, then walked out the door.

At an elegant bar somewhere in Paris, the Host Club King opened his phone to view the curt message. He looked up and grinned at the twins, who were sitting across the table, peering at him curiously.

"What's up, boss?" Kaoru asked.

Tamaki smiled again and held up for the phone so they could see the message themselves.

"It's time."

Chapter 14: Reunited at Birth

The flight was long and nerve-wracking. Despite all the amenities that wealth had to offer, Kyoya simply could not make the plane go any faster (although he did make a mental note to start investing in super-sonic travel research as soon as he returned). In all likelihood, the whole event would probably be over by the time he got there. It was regrettable, but he had to accept that there was nothing he could do about it.

When the plane finally landed, he hailed a cab and handed the driver the address of the hospital, then called Ayame's cell phone. She picked up after the third ring. "Ayame, it's Kyoya. I'm en route to the hospital now. How is Haruhi doing? Has the baby been born yet?"

"Ah, Kyoya…" He paused as he detected a slight note of hesitancy and embarrassment in her voice. "Actually, it looks like I called you prematurely. We went to the hospital, but then the contractions stopped. They said it was something like 'false labor', and that she wasn't dilated enough, so they sent her home. We're at the apartment right now."

"I see." Kyoya hesitated slightly, and then asked, "Is it all right if I come there, then?"

"Well, Haruhi is resting now, and I don't want to excite her…"

"Ayame." Kyoya struggled to keep his voice calm. "Please."

"…All right. But, Kyoya, she doesn't know that you're coming. I didn't tell her. Actually, she doesn't know about our agreement at all. I wasn't sure whether or not it would freak her out, so I didn't say anything."

"I see," Kyoya said again. Then he gave a small sigh. "I promise I won't do anything to upset her. Can you give me your address again?" He tapped on the glass on front of him to alert the taxi driver. "Oi. Excuse me, but we're changing destinations." He gave the driver the address, then settled back against the seat. _I'm coming, Haruhi_, he thought to himself wearily, feeling his body giving way to the effects of jet lag. _Please, wait for me._

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up in front of Ayame's apartment building. He paid the driver, and stepped out of the cab, his heart pounding as he mounted the steps to Ayame's apartment and knocked on the door.

Ayame answered quickly; he suspected that she had been waiting for him to arrive. _She probably just didn't want Haruhi to accidentally see me first_. He nodded to her in greeting and stepped into the apartment, slipping off his shoes out of habit, and quickly surveyed the room for signs of Haruhi.

"She's back in the bedroom, resting," Ayame said from behind him. A brief pause, then: "You can go sit with her if you want." He turned and looked at her in surprise. Somehow, he had expected her to be more reticent about letting him see Haruhi. After all, she had been so protective of Haruhi up until this point…

He examined her face more closely. She looked tired. He wondered if she had been up all night. "You look exhausted," he commented.

Ayame smiled wryly. "Yeah, I didn't get much sleep. It was really frustrating. They said the contractions might start up again at any time, so we were there for hours; but eventually they just sent us home and said to come back when it started." She yawned. "Haruhi's been in there sleeping for a few hours now. I just wanted to wait until you got here…"

Kyoya stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Get some sleep," he said, not unkindly. "I'm here to help, so you won't have to handle this by yourself anymore." Ayame nodded wearily and half-sat, half-fell onto the couch. Kyoya started to walk toward the bedroom, then stopped and added over his shoulder, "Thank you for everything you've done up 'til now. Truly."

"Mm-hmm," Ayame replied sleepily as Kyoya opened the door and entered the bedroom.

It was dark in the bedroom, and Kyoya's eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. On the bed, Haruhi was curled up on her side, with her back facing him. He sucked in his breath slightly as he looked at her. Even nine months pregnant, she still looked so _small_. He wondered if she'd been eating properly. He walked slowly over to the bed and sat down on the edge, then reached out a tentative hand and gently brushed her hair off her face. From this vantage point, he could see her features more clearly. Her sleeping face looked peaceful, but he could see the dark circles under her eyes. As he looked at her, she shivered slightly, whether from the cold or from his touch he could not tell. Quietly, he slipped under the covers and lay down next to her, adjusting his position to fit the curves of her body. She stirred and shifted her weight slightly to accommodate him, then immediately stilled again. Kyoya listened to the sound of her breathing, and found himself lulled into drowsiness by the rhythmic noise and the warmth of her body. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, resting his hand lightly on top of her swollen belly, and he slept.

He wasn't sure what it was that woke him first. At some point, Haruhi had begun to twist and turn in the bed, unable to find a comfortable position in her sleep, and tiny whimpers began to escape from her throat. By the time Kyoya woke up, he found that she was sobbing quietly, although she still did not appear to be conscious.

"Haruhi?" He shook her gently. "Haruhi, are you okay?"

"It hurts," she mumbled. "Oh, it hurts…"

Kyoya sat up and turned on the light, then pulled back the covers. Haruhi shivered at the sudden cold, and he could see why. The sheets around her legs were wet and bloody. Kyoya swung his legs over the bed and hurried to the door. "Ayame!" he called urgently into the living room. Ayame raised her head from the couch and rolled into a sitting position, instantly awake.

"It's time?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"It's past time," he said. "It looks like her water's already broken, and there's blood. At this point, things are probably going to start moving pretty quickly. I need you to get a bunch of clean towels, and then boil some water. I'll call the ambulance, but I doubt they'll be here in time. It's 911 in the United States, correct?"

Ayame nodded quickly and then hurried in the direction of the linen closet. Kyoya picked up the receiver of Ayame's land-line phone and dialed emergency services. "Hello? Yes, there's a woman here who just went into labor. No, her water has already broken so we can't bring her to the hospital. If you could please send an ambulance…yes…" He gave them Ayame's address and hung up, then quickly turned to Ayame, who was standing in front of him, holding an armful of towels.

"Okay," he said. "They're on their way, but we are going to have to be prepared to deliver this baby ourselves." At Ayame's panicked look, he said quickly, "It's okay, I know what to do. My family does a lot of businesses in the medical sector, and while I've never done this before personally, I have had some training on the proper procedures. Take the towels into the bedroom and put some of them underneath her. Use one to wipe down her legs and keep a few off to the side for the delivery. I'll help you prop up her back with pillows. Did you start the water boiling?" Ayame nodded. "Good, we'll use that to sterilize things. We'll probably need at least a clamp of some kind and a pair of scissors…"

He walked quickly over to the sink and began to wash his hands. "You should do this, too," he nodded at her. "The most important thing is to keep everything as sterile as possible." He grabbed a bunch of towels out of Ayame's arms and began heading back towards the bedroom. "I'll get things started. Come as soon as you can."

In the bedroom, Haruhi looked like she had finally woken up completely. He smiled at the shock on her face as he walked into the room. "Kyoya?!" she gasped. "What are you doing he-ahh!" Her whole body tensed with the contraction. Kyoya dropped the towels on the bed, and stepped towards her, taking her hand in his. As the contraction eased and her body relaxed, he leaned over and planted a quick kiss on the forehead.

"We'll talk about it later," he said gently, looking into her wide brown eyes. "Right now we have work to do."

By the time he had propped up her back with pillows, Ayame had come into the room, carrying a pot of steaming water. "I've got the scissors, too," she said. "Where do you need me?"

"For now, help me with the towels, then I want you to sit next to Haruhi. Help her stay focused, make sure she's breathing properly. I'll handle things at this end." Ayame shot him a look, and seemed like she wanted to protest, but Kyoya stood his ground. Of the two of them, he was the only one who knew what he was doing, and they were both aware that she had no choice but to defer to his experience. She finally nodded and helped Kyoya spread out the towels, then sat down next to Haruhi and took her hand.

"It'll be okay, sweetie," she said soothingly as Haruhi fearfully looked up at her. "Just breathe and hold my hand. Everything will be okay."

The pain was like nothing Haruhi had ever experienced before. It left her no time to reflect on the shock of seeing Kyoya appear so suddenly out of nowhere. By the time she knew what was happening, the contractions were already coming so close together that she couldn't think about anything besides the task at hand. She was dimly aware of Ayame holding onto her hand and murmuring soothing words into her ear. Kyoya, meanwhile, knelt silently by her feet, holding a towel in his hands and looking maddeningly calm about everything. She wanted to smack him for it, but she also desperately needed to latch onto that calm to keep from panicking completely. Each time a fresh wave of agony washed over her, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus on the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips. Every time their eyes met, she drew reassurance from his unspoken promise: _I am here with you. Just bear with the pain and it will all be okay._

"Okay, Haruhi, I see the head crowning. I need you to push!"

"It's okay, Haruhi, everything will be all right…"

"Push harder! Again!"

"Kyoya, you sadistic bastard, give her a minute—!"

"Shut up, Ayame!"

"Ahhhh! SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU!"

…And then they all heard it: the distinct, unmistakable wails of a newborn. As it emerged, Kyoya quickly swaddled it in the towel in his arms and cleared out its air passage with his finger, then clamped and cut the cord. Finally, he held up the tiny bundle in front of him for both of them to see. Even through the lingering haze of pain, Haruhi couldn't help thinking that it was the first time she had ever seen such a dazzlingly genuine smile on the former host's face.

"Congratulations, Haruhi," he said as he handed the bundle to her. "It's a boy."

Haruhi gingerly took the infant in her arms and gazed down at its tiny face, which was scrunched up and wailing. Instinctively, she began to rock it gently in her arms. "Shh, shh," she whispered. "Everything's alright now."

After a few moments, the baby's crying stopped, and it opened its eyes to look at her for the first time. As she gazed wonderingly, Haruhi felt an emotion unlike anything she had ever known before sweep through her. Love, and joy, and hope, and fear, all mixed up together with a handful of other feelings she could not even name; and underneath of it all was the overwhelming sense that something profound had changed within her. The axis of her world had shifted: it spun in a new direction. Nothing would be the same after this.

"Wow," she murmured softly. She cradled the infant's head against her chest and smiled down at its face, noticing as she did so the tiny grey eyes that were so reminiscent of Kyoya's. "Hello, there. I'm Mommy. Nice to meet you." She looked up at Kyoya and grinned, finally understanding his earlier expression, which now perfectly matched her own. There would be time enough in the future to discuss the many problems that still lay between them, but for now, she was simply glad he was there to share this moment with her.

_No matter what I say, no matter what I do, no matter how far I run…this man is now irrefutably a part of me. _Somehow, the thought did not scare her as much as she had thought I would. Her world, it seemed, had changed in more ways than one.

Chapter 15: That Merry Cacophony

By the time the rest of the Host Club arrived, Haruhi had been safely transported to the hospital. She was in her room resting quietly when she heard them descend en masse into the maternity ward, immediately causing quite a stir. She readjusted her head on the pillow and continued to listen to the distant fuss, eyes closed. Normally, she would be feeling a not-so-vague form of dread right about now. The Host Club members had a way of forcing themselves into her life whenever it suited them, whether she wanted them to or not. It was as annoying as it was endearing, and she had become fairly used to it over the years. Even so, she knew that this time around, none of them would be able to set foot in her room until she was ready to see them…because doing so would mean having to get past Kyoya first.

He had said almost nothing to her directly since they arrived at the hospital, but he had quickly become an indispensible presence, taking charge of everything from directing the paramedics to filling out the forms for Haruhi's admission. He had even managed to talk Ayame into letting him ride in the ambulance, insisting that she take the opportunity to stay home and rest. Haruhi had actually expected more resistance on Ayame's part, but her friend had been surprisingly compliant. Then again, it was difficult for anyone to resist Kyoya when he was in business mode. His natural aura of authority subtly cowed everyone around him, and no one dared to question any of his orders. He had always been this way, Haruhi reminded herself. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that his attitude had changed somewhat since their last meeting. The difference was subtle, but something about his manner seemed gentler than before. Haruhi wondered what had happened to him while she had been away.

She frowned and rolled over to face the far wall, trying to get more comfortable on the stiff mattress. Of course, the more pressing question was how to act around him now that he was here. The easy camaraderie of their former friendship was no longer possible. Every time she saw his face, her heart started pounding loudly in her chest. She ached for him whenever he was near, and thought about him constantly when he was not. She longed to hold him close to her, to tell him everything she was feeling…yet she knew that she had no right to do so. There was no denying that she had betrayed his trust, and he was under no obligation to forgive her, let alone feel anything more.

Haruhi shivered. Truthfully, she was terrified to know what he might be thinking, but the silence between them was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and she sensed it was close to a breaking point. Soon enough, they would have to hash everything out, and from there, things would fall out as they would. For the moment, all she could do was gather her strength and prepare herself for the worst-case scenario…even though she wasn't entirely sure what that would be…

"Are you cold, Haruhi?"

Haruhi started. She had not heard him come into the room. She kept her voice steady.

"A little."

She heard the door close, followed by a slight rustle, and then she felt a blanket settle lightly over her. She stifled a small sigh, and waited for the inevitable sound of fading footsteps. These brief visits had been their only real interaction since checking into the hospital. He had been quite solicitous in ensuring her comfort, but he had yet to say anything more. It was painful to be so near to him, yet unable to break through the icy wall of polite formality that lay between them. She bit her lip and tried to focus on easing the lump in her throat. _Stop being so kind to me, Kyoya. It hurts too much._

In defiance of her expectations, she felt a weight settle onto the bed next to her. Before she knew it, he had slipped under the blanket and stretched out so that she felt his warmth along the whole length of her whole body. He wrapped his arm gently around her waist. "Better?"

"Mmm."

"Haruhi…" he breathed into her ear, and she had to repress another shudder. He was close now, so close. She prayed he couldn't hear the pounding in her chest.

"Haruhi, there's so much I want to say to you."

Haruhi swallowed. "Me too."

Kyoya's voice was unexpectedly hesitant. "I…I just wanted to say that—"

"HARRRRUUHHIIIIIIII!" Without warning, the door slammed open, and the entire Host Club spilled into the room. Kyoya instantly let go of Haruhi's waist at the interruption and they both turned around to stare at the beaming Host King, whose wide smile held just the slightest bit of a smirk at catching them in such a compromising position.

"Tamaki…" Kyoya growled darkly.

Unabashed, Tamaki raced around the bed and pulled Haruhi swiftly into his arms. "Haruhi! I'm so glad you're all right! We were so worried about you! I can't believe you had a baby! I'm so happy for my little girl!"

"Senpai..." Haruhi gasped as Tamaki pulled her roughly against his chest, "Senpai…Can't…breathe…"

"Oh!" Tamaki looked down at her with a slightly embarrassed smile and loosened his hold. "Well, we can't have that, can we?"

Haruhi looked up at him in surprise. As accustomed as she was to his frequent manhandling, she was even more used to him completely ignoring her protests about it. When had he become so considerate?

Hikaru followed closely at Tamaki's heels. "Haruhi!" he said as he crossed quickly around the bed and grabbed her hand in both of his. His voice was full of worry. "Hey, are you all right? Is everything okay? This idiot didn't do anything to you, right?"

Haruhi smiled warmly at him, genuinely touched by his concern. "I'm fine, Hikaru." She reached out and brushed the fingers of her free hand against his face. "It's really good to see you." At this, Hikaru blushed up to his ears, and was only saved from total embarrassment by the intervention of Kaoru, who placed his hand on his twin's shoulder and cut in brightly.

"That's great, Haruhi! We're glad to see you, too." Haruhi caught Hikaru's quick glance up at his brother, half annoyed and half grateful for the rescue.

"Yeah," he said quickly. "We're really glad." Then, as if on cue, the two of them then struck a pose, and set off a couple of confetti poppers that had magically appeared in each of their hands. In unison, they chanted, "We wish you great joy on the birth of your baby!"

Haruhi laughed aloud, her prior nervousness vanishing completely. "Thanks, you two." She turned to the door, noticing as she did so that Kyoya had slipped off the bed and was now leaning nonchalantly against the wall. Her gaze shifted Honey and Mori, who were the last to enter the room. "Hi guys," she said, waving cheerfully.

"Haru-chan!" Honey rushed over to her, his arms outstretched and his eyes bright with tears. "We missed you so much!" he cried. "You really scared us! Don't do that again, okay?"

Haruhi stroked his head gently. Despite the fact that he was actually older than she was, she could never resist the sweetness of his face, which still looked so much like a child's. "I'm sorry, Honey-senpai," she said soothingly. "I won't do it again, I promise." She glanced up quickly at Mori, and noted his approving nod.

"All right, you've all said hello to Haruhi," Kyoya cut in briskly. "Now out you go. She needs rest."

"But Kyoya…" Tamaki started to whine.

"Out." Kyoya's said firmly. At their fallen expressions, his tone softened slightly. "If you behave, I'll show you all where the nursery is."

"Oooh…" The Host Club brightened collectively at this suggestion, and soon they had all scampered into the hall. Haruhi chuckled to herself as she watched them file out. Kyoya himself was the last one to leave, and he glanced back at her before stepping into the hall.

"We'll talk later. Get some rest." Haruhi held his eyes for a moment, then nodded her assent. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something more, but he was cut off by a call from Kaoru. He glanced guiltily out into the hallway, and then turned and followed the rest, leaving her alone once more. The silence of the room, which before had been so peaceful, suddenly felt lonesome and oppressive. Haruhi sat a moment or two in the quiet, trying to collect her thoughts. _To see them all here, after so long…_ Unexpectedly, she felt her chest constrict and her vision begin to blur.

"Stupid idiots," she muttered, as an unruly drop slid past her lashes. "You don't need to worry about me so much." Yet she couldn't deny that she had missed them all terribly. Even in the space of such a short visit, their warmth and love had utterly shattered all of the defenses she had spent months building. She smiled ruefully through her tears. _I guess I'm the biggest idiot of all._

"Haruhi."

She looked up quickly to see Kyoya standing in the doorway. "Oh, you're back already," she choked out, wiping her eyes vigorously and struggling to regain her composure. "Wow, that was quick pretty quick. I take it the guys are already busy charming the whole maternity ward staff?"

"Something like that."

"Ah, I see." An awkward silence settled over the room. "Did you forget something?"

"Yes, you could say that."

"Oh. Well, don't mind me, then. You can just…" Her voice caught in her throat, and she felt another tear threatening to spill down her cheek. She covered her face with her hand. "Don't look at me, Kyoya. I don't want you to see me like this. I'm a mess."

Kyoya crossed to the bed and sat down next to her, tugging her hand away from her face and tilting her chin up so she was forced to look at him. Then, before she had a chance to react, he leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. It was a light kiss, not forceful or demanding, but he lingered a moment before he drew back and looked at her again.

"You are beautiful," he said simply.

With that, the last of Haruhi's internal defenses caved in on itself, and the dam finally broke. Kyoya reached forward and drew her into a close embrace as she sobbed bitterly, pressing her face against his chest and clinging to the front of his silken shirt. She knew she was probably ruining a very expensive item of clothing, but she honestly didn't care anymore. The relief of allowing months of repressed fear and anguish to wash away was simply too much. She cried, and Kyoya held her, and for a long, blissful moment, she allowed herself to imagine that they were the only two people in the entire world. At last, worn out beyond exhaustion, she slumped against Kyoya's chest. The last thing she remembered as she drifted off to sleep was the smell of his shirt, and the sensation of his warmth enveloping her. _If I were to die in this moment_, she thought drowsily, _then I really do think I could die happy._

Kyoya held her for a long time after her crying stopped and her breathing evened into a slow, deep rhythm. As soon as he was sure she was fast asleep, he laid her head gently against the pillow, and slipped quietly out of the room. He was glad he had given in to the impulse to return to the room after escorting the Hosts to the nursery. Though Haruhi had been smiling when they left, something in her expression had made him feel uneasy, and he had been unsurprised to find her in tears when he returned. Well, it was understandable. She had probably been struggling to hold herself together for a long time now. Although it pained him to see her crying, he had sensed her relief, and he was grateful that she had not pushed him away. Maybe she did not hate him so completely after all.

It didn't take him long to find the Hosts, who were still crowded around the nursery window, exclaiming excitedly over the newborns within. They turned to greet Kyoya as he strolled over to them.

"Hey, Kyo-chan," Honey said, his voice and face brimming with elation. "He's so cute!"

"Very cute," Mori agreed.

"Yeah, it's hard to believe, isn't it?" Hikaru grinned devilishly. "Being yours and all."

"Hikaru!" Kaoru elbowed him in the ribs. "Be nice!"

"And look!" Honey cried, completely ignoring the twins' interjection. "He definitely has your eyes!"

Kyoya followed Honey's gaze and looked in at the tiny infant, swaddled in blue, who had just opened his eyes and was now peering confusedly at them through the window. Kyoya placed his hand lightly against the glass. "Yes," he said softly, "I suppose he does." He quickly turned his face away, trying to hide his expression. "Their eyes do change, though, over time."

"That's true," Tamaki said, "but it doesn't change the fact that he's your son, Kyoya." He put his hand on Kyoya's shoulder and squeezed gently. "You're a father, now. You should be proud."

"Hey, Kyoya," Kaoru piped up, "I heard from one of the nurses that you actually delivered him yourself. Is that true?"

At this, all heads suddenly swiveled his way. Apparently, this fact had not been common knowledge. Kyoya sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yes, it's true. She delivered the baby before the paramedics could arrive, so Ayame and I were the only ones there." He looked up and flushed slightly at their admiring stares. "It's not a big deal."

"It is too a big deal! How can you be so calm about something like that?" Hikaru demanded.

"I'm always calm in a crisis."

"Well, yeah," Hikaru conceded. "But weren't you even a little scared?"

Kyoya turned his face back to the glass, avoiding Hikaru's gazed by fixing his attention on the tiny person in front of him. "Of course I was," he said quietly.

He could sense rather than see the dropped jaws as they gaped at him. It was a bit of a bombshell, he knew. His father had drilled into him at a young age that an Ootori never allowed himself to feel fear, let alone admit it; and he had been very careful never to show that side of himself to others. However, he really didn't see the point in hiding it now. The truth was, he had been terrified. Delivering a baby at home was simple enough in theory, but there were so many ways it could have gone wrong. Without medical resources or trained personnel on hand, even a simple complication could have proved fatal for Haruhi or the baby. He didn't even want to think about all the possibilities.

When he did not say any more, the Hosts eventually turned their attention back to the nursery, and the mood slowly returned to its former lightness. A few minutes later, however, when the conversation had shifted to safer topics, he found himself drawn off to the side by Tamaki.

"How is she, really?" he asked Kyoya with unwonted seriousness. "I was surprised by how pale she looked when we visited. Is she really okay?"

Kyoya fidgeted. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "She's been through a lot, and I think she's been trying to bear the brunt of all the pressure by herself. I know she was staying with her friend Ayame for a while, but I think she spent more time alone than not. I'm honestly not sure if I'll even be able to get her to talk to me at this point."

"You will," Tamaki said confidently. "If anyone can, it's definitely you."

Kyoya snorted in disbelief. "You don't have a lot of grounds for saying that."

"I do, actually. I saw the way she looked at you when we were leaving."

"Oh? And how was that?" Kyoya asked casually, trying to hide his piqued curiosity.

"Like a drowning man glimpsing a life raft. Desperate, scared, and hopeful at the same time. She didn't want you to go; that was clear enough." He paused, the smallest flicker of regret passing over his face, then continued. "I really do think she's in love with you, Kyoya."

"Ha!" Kyoya's laugh was bitter. "All that in a single glance, huh? I appreciate the sentiment, Tamaki, but I think we both know that it's bullshit. It is _me_ we're talking about, after all."

"Kyoya." Tamaki grasped him by the shoulders and forced him to look up. "Listen to me. I know you don't like to let people see beneath that armor of yours, but you know Haruhi figured out who you really are a long time ago. And instead of being scared or repulsed by you, she accepted you wholeheartedly as her friend…"

"Yes!" Kyoya burst out in a low voice, "I already know that! I was her friend! Just a friend! We were friends, and we made a stupid mistake, and that's all there is to it. _You _were the one she wanted in high school¸ _you _were the one she always had eyes for—"

"And yet," Tamaki said softly, his voice cutting cleanly through Kyoya's heated protests, "And yet, in all the years I've known her, I've never seen her look at anyone the way she looked at you just now." He sighed and continued, "All I'm saying is that you should have a little more faith in yourself, Kyoya. At this point, it's obvious she feels _something_ for you; and even though that's not a guarantee in itself, it's at least a beginning. If you really love her, then you can't give up just yet."

"But…why would she love someone like me?" Kyoya whispered.

"You'll have to ask her that yourself," Tamaki replied, "but you might be surprised at the answer you get." He grinned. "Maybe you should have a little more faith in her, too."

In spite of Kyoya's determination to speak with Haruhi at the first available opportunity, the next several days offered almost no chances to talk to her alone. By the time he had managed to convince the Host Club that they really _should _take advantage of their time in Boston to do some sightseeing, Ayame had arrived for the night shift with Haruhi, and she practically kicked him out the door.

"Haruhi will be fine," she said bluntly. "You go sleep now. If you don't have a hotel room, I can give you the key to my place. Now go."

"Thank you, but no," he replied smoothly. "I already have a suite booked at the Ritz Carlton, so I'll be fine. I appreciate the offer, though." He beamed at her with his best Host Club smile, then turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. _As if I would stay in a commoner's lodging. Who the hell does she think I am?_

The next morning was no better, since it heralded the arrival of Ranka, who had just flown in from Japan. Kyoya had made sure to call him as soon as he got Ayame's message that Haruhi had gone into labor; but since Ranka was traveling on a commercial airliner instead of a private jet, this was the soonest he had been able to arrive. Despite the fact that the two of them had had barely spoken to one another since their blow-up months earlier, Kyoya made a point of greeting Ranka at the airport. It never hurt to be proactive.

"Welcome, Ranka," he said, bowing formally as the older man stepped out of the boarding tunnel and into the terminal. "You're looking lovely as ever."

"Kyoya," Ranka replied somewhat grumpily, "you do realize that I've been on a plane for 14 hours, right?"

"I stand by my assertion," Kyoya said smoothly, mentally cursing himself for the blunder. "Was the trip very tiresome?"

"Incredibly so," Ranka agreed as they began walking. "But it's worth it to see Haruhi." Upon the mention of his daughter's name, he abruptly closed his mouth and averted his eyes. The silence turned awkward as they both recalled the last conversation they had had on the subject of Haruhi. Kyoya decided it was best to break it as quickly as possible, and went for the direct route.

"You know, Ranka," he began, "I really don't blame you for punching me. If I had been in your position, I would probably have done the same thing. But then again," and here he smiled ruefully, "I'm afraid I couldn't ever match your right hook." This managed to elicit a small chuckle from Ranka. Encouraged, Kyoya continued, "I do want you to know that I intend to take full responsibility for this. I still need to talk to Haruhi about what she wants to do; but you have my word that whatever happens, she and the child will be well provided for."

"Do you still plan to marry her?" Ranka asked, casting a sidelong glance at Kyoya to gauge his reaction.

Kyoya kept his face neutral. "If that's what she wants to do, then certainly."

Ranka stopped and turned to face him, his expression serious. "What do _you_ want to do, Kyoya?"

Kyoya thought for a moment. Truth be told, it wasn't something he had ever really considered. His decisions, be they business related or personal, had always been guided by what made sense, or what was expected, or what needed to be done. Yet, if all the "should's" and "must's" were stripped away, what would be left? What, exactly, was his true desire?

"I want to be with Haruhi," he said finally. "I don't care how. I just don't want to be without her anymore."

Ranka smiled at him. "That's a good answer," he said approvingly, as they turned and began to walk again. "You know, Kotoko and I weren't married when she became pregnant with Haruhi, either." Kyoya looked up at him in surprise. Ranka noted his expression and continued, "A little ironic, I guess, given how I reacted to you. But then, those circumstances were a little different…" He trailed off, lost in thought. Kyoya said nothing and waited for him to continue. "At any rate, having a baby did change things for us; but in the end, it wasn't the reason why we decided to get married. When I thought about it, I realized that I simply loved Kotoko more than any other person I had ever met; and I wanted to be with her always. The baby just hurried things a bit, that's all."

He glanced over at Kyoya again. "You know how much Haruhi has always looked up to and tried to emulate her mother. Because the two of us were a love match, I wouldn't be surprised if she had decided a long time ago that that's how she wanted it to be for herself as well. And you know how stubborn she can be…"

"Indeed." Kyoya chuckled softly.

"At any rate, if that's how you feel about her, you should definitely let her know. And…" Ranka cleared his throat in an attempt to hide the huskiness that had suddenly crept into his voice, "whatever the two of you decide, I will support it." He suddenly broke a silly grin, covering all traces of his previous seriousness, and clapped Kyoya on the back. "Ah, I always liked you the best, Kyoya! Plus, if you hurt my little girl, I'll just come and kill you myself! Ha ha!"

"That won't be necessary, I assure you."

"Oh, I'm just kidding, silly! I might break a few of your bones though…"

The rest of the trip to the hospital passed in a similarly companionable fashion, although once they arrived, Kyoya quickly faded into the background as father and daughter enjoyed their dramatic and tearful reunion. Well, he was fine with that. In general, he preferred to avoid such theatrics; and indeed, he had always made a point of leaving that portion of Host Club management entirely to Tamaki. Still, it made for an entertaining show, and all of the nurses on the wing seemed to get a kick out of it. Kyoya took the opportunity to go down to the cafeteria and grab some coffee. By the time he returned, things seemed to have settled down somewhat. As he walked towards the room, he heard Ranka's voice drifting down the hallway.

"So, have you decided on a name for him yet?"

"Not yet," Haruhi replied. "I have thought of a few, but—" She cut off mid-sentence as Kyoya walked into the room. He noticed that she was now holding the baby in her arms and letting it nurse at her breast. She blushed shyly, and Kyoya quickly averted his gaze. _I'm going to have to get used to that_, he noted to himself. He coughed slightly to cover his discomfort.

"Please," he said, addressing the empty chair directly to Haruhi's left, "don't stop on my account. I'm actually very interested to hear what names you had in mind."

"Oh, well…I was thinking of some of the boy's names I've always liked, like Misaki, or Tooru, or Akira..." She trailed off. Kyoya looked up to find her blushing again. "But then again, since it's going to be a member of your family, too, Kyoya, I wanted to see if there were any traditional names that you preferred."

"Not really," Kyoya said. "The Ootori surname was always enough of a 'tradition' for my family. Pick anything you like."

"Well, then…I'd like to name him 'Yoshi'." Haruhi paused, then continued quietly, "After your father."

Kyoya looked up at her in surprise. "Really? I mean, I don't object to it, but why?"

"A reminder, I guess, that he is not just a pawn of the Ootori syndicate, but a member of your family. Even if things get complicated from here on out, I want him to always know who he is and be able to say it proudly.

"Also," and here she grinned wickedly up at Kyoya, "consider it my little bit of revenge against your father for that stunt he tried to pull back in September."

"Can't argue with that," Kyoya said, smiling warmly at her. It felt good to be joking again.

"Anywaaaay!" Ranka suddenly cut in. "Well then, I'm just going to take little Yoshi-chan back the nursery, and then I think I'll head down to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. I won't be back for at least 45 minutes. Have a nice chat, you two!"

"What—?" Kyoya started, but Ranka had already taken Yoshi and flitted out the door. He glanced at Haruhi, was covering up her chest. "What was that about?"

"Oh, well, I may have mentioned to Dad that I wanted some time to talk with you. I mean, really _talk._" She stole a nervous glance at him. "We really haven't had a chance to do that yet, you know?"

"Yes," Kyoya said, moving to close the door, "I know. So," he pulled up a chair next to the bed, "where do you want to begin?"

Chapter 16: True Feelings

"Where do you want to begin?"

Haruhi dropped her gaze to her fingers, which were fidgeting nervously. "I guess I should begin with my apology." She lifted her head and look him in the eye. "I am so sorry, Kyoya, for running away from you. I had my reasons for it, but still. It was a cowardly thing to do, and I know I must have hurt you deeply. I really am sorry."

"Well, for that…I guess we both hurt each other," Kyoya responded. "I know you only ran because I backed you into a corner. For that, I am also sorry."

They gazed at each other for a moment in silence, unsure how to continue. Finally, Haruhi broke the tension. "So…now what?"

"Well…you could tell me about what you were doing all this time. I looked for you, you know."

"Yes," Haruhi said softly, "I know. I did my best to make it difficult for you."

Kyoya smiled ruefully, "It was, at that. I got lucky when Ranka mentioned Ayame's name and I remembered that she had been a friend of yours in high school and college. I didn't think you'd actually be staying there, though. I was really just hoping for some kind of lead."

"Ah," Haruhi said. The silence settled between them again. At the moment when it finally became unbearable, they both spoke simultaneously.

"Haruhi—"

"Kyoya—"

"You first," Kyoya said.

"Well…it's just…I did a lot of thinking while I was away from you. I had all of these reasons in my head for why I did what I did, but I think that was probably the real one. I needed time to get my head together, and figure out what I wanted to do."

"And what was that?" Kyoya prompted.

"I guess I'm not entirely sure yet. But I did figure out one thing."

"Which was—?"

"That I really…truly…" Haruhi turned her head and her voice dropped to a register that was so low Kyoya missed the end of her sentence.

"I'm sorry, Haruhi, but I didn't quite catch that. Could you say it again?"

"I said I love you!" Haruhi burst out, whipping her head around to glare at him fiercely. She quickly dropped her voice again, but held his gaze. "I…really love you, Kyoya. The whole time I was gone, I couldn't think about anything but you. About how much I had hurt you, leaving you like that. I realized that I had done a terrible thing. It's just that…I was so scared! You were so determined, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to resist you for very long. And I didn't want to rush into a marriage that we would both regret. I didn't want you to…hate me…because you regretted it. I—"

Kyoya had had enough. He pulled her tightly into his arms. "I could never regret it!" he said roughly. His voice dropped to a whisper as he laced his fingers through her hair and pulled her face close. "Never." He tightened his arms around her convulsively.

"Kyoya?" Haruhi's voice held a note of uncertainty.

He loosened his hold slightly, but kept his arms wrapped around her. "God, I'm such a coward," he said. "I've been trying to tell you how I felt for ten years, and when I finally managed it, it was couched in an attack that made it sound like a lie. I'm very sorry for that, but—" he pulled away and held her face in his hands, "the truth is, it wasn't a lie at all. I really do love you. I've always loved you. I just never had the confidence to say it."

Haruhi gaped at him. "So…you don't hate me, then?"

"I could never hate you," he said earnestly.

"And you forgive me?"

"I forgive you. Just don't do it again, please. I'm not sure my heart can take it a second time."

Haruhi leaned against his chest, her shoulders slumping forward. "Thank goodness," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him. "Oh, thank goodness."

The actual process of catching up was a rather long one, and the conversation ended up taking several days. Haruhi was discharged from the hospital, and together with Ranka and Yoshi, she moved into Kyoya's hotel suite for the next week. Kyoya had even gone so far as to suggest that the two of them share his room; but she politely declined, explaining that she wasn't comfortable sleeping together in the same bed while they were in such close proximity to her father and son. If she was honest with herself, though, that wasn't the real reason for her reluctance. Although she and Kyoya had already spent several hours rehashing the past—which included not only the events of the past year, but also the ten years preceding (which Haruhi now saw in a rather different light)—they had yet to touch on anything concerning their future. She didn't want to push the subject, but she also didn't want to play at being lovers until the matter was properly settled. There was too much uncertainty weighing on her mind.

After a week, with the issue still unsettled, the four of them finally flew back to Japan. In the days leading up to their departure, the other members of the Host Club had one by one said their goodbyes and returned to their own lives, leaving behind many well wishes and promises to see each other soon. Tamaki was the last to go. Before he left, he had taken Haruhi aside and given her a soft kiss on the cheek. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something; but in the end, he just sighed and smiled. "May you find happiness, my dear daughter," he said tenderly, before giving her a quick squeeze. He then turned to Kyoya, who had been regarding them intently out of the corner of his eye, and fixed him with a hard stare. "Hey, Kyoya…"

"I know," Kyoya said, giving an exasperated sigh (though Haruhi noticed that a small smile played at the corner of his lips). "I promise."

"Good," Tamaki said, nodding, and then quickly turned to board the plane. Haruhi couldn't be sure, but as he turned, she thought his face looked momentarily pained. Impulsively, she called out, "Senpai!"

Tamaki spun around, looking back at them in surprise. Haruhi waved at him. "Thank you!"

He blinked at her for a moment, uncomprehending; and then he flashed her one of his brilliant Host Club King smiles, waved back, and swiftly disappeared into the plane.

At her side, Kyoya stepped forward and took her hand. "What was that all about?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Closure, I guess. It's not as if we'll never see each other again, but even when we do, things will be different, between all three of us. He was saying good-bye."

"Ah," Kyoya said simply. After a moment, he squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, and then, hand in hand, they walked to the airport's exit.

Chapter 17: Epilogue

A year later, the Host Club reunited once again to celebrate the wedding of Haruhi Fujioka and Kyoya Ootori. The road to the decision had been a long one, consisting of several months and many difficult conversations; but in the end, Haruhi had finally given her consent. She could no longer deny the strength of her feelings for Kyoya, and while she had initially been tempted to take a "wait and see" approach to their relationship, she had come to realize that without a deliberate commitment, they simply wouldn't be able to make it work. Between Haruhi's full-time job (Mr. Akito had immediately rehired her upon her return to Japan), Kyoya's corporate responsibilities, and—of course—the important task of raising Yoshi, life had become far too hectic for a casual relationship to sustain them. Marriage—which had once seemed such a terrifying prospect—was therefore only way to ensure that they could continue to walk forward on the same road together.

After their engagement was announced, things moved forward with surprising swiftness. Haruhi had advocated strongly for a small ceremony, surrounded by only their closest friends and family, but had been swiftly overruled once the Host Club got wind of the proceedings. In the end, she had been forced to submit to the lavishly decorated venue, the ridiculously frilly dress the twins had designed for her, and the towering strawberry cake that Honey had personally selected. She didn't mind so much, though, since Kyoya had readily agreed to the only point on which she insisted: that the hall, when decorated for the ceremony, include a small table on which rested a framed photograph of her mother, surrounded by flowers.

As she waited to process into the hall, Haruhi closed her eyes and breathed deeply. _Mom, can you see me now? I know this wasn't what any of us were expecting, but to tell you the truth, I really am very happy with the way it all turned out. I hope I haven't disappointed you._

"Hey, Kiddo, are you ready to go?" Ranka opened the door to her room and peered in at her. In defiance of everyone's expectations, he had opted to wear a man's suit, pulling his long hair back into a neat ponytail and foregoing (most of) his usual makeup. He actually looked quite sharp.

"Yes, I'm ready." She took his hand, and together they walked to the head of the aisle. Across the large room, she saw Kyoya, who looked dashingly handsome in his tuxedo, standing straight and tall, waiting for her with grace and poise. Behind him stood the entire Host Club, all matching and dressed to the nines. Across from them stood Ayame, who looked as uncomfortable as Haruhi felt in her frilly bridesmaid's dress. She was doing her best to keep a grip on little Yoshi, who was wriggling with excitement, even though he didn't fully understand what was going on. Haruhi smiled to herself at the sight, her heart full. _Mom, I really am so happy…_

As if sensing her thoughts, Ranka turned and murmured into her ear, "Your mom would be proud."

Haruhi looked up at him and saw the tears in his eyes. She kissed him on the cheek. "I know. I love you, Dad."

Ranka smiled broadly and offered her his arm. She took it gratefully, and as the music finally began, she took the first step forward into her new future.

81


End file.
